Weirdness and loneliness

I am writing today mostly to push away the empty loneliness that has been creeping into my soul all day. So I guess this will mostly be random babbling to exercise my fingers and maybe not feel quite so alone far from home today.

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American Insanity

Well this is always a gigantic topic full of options… this is probably not going where you think it might.

Before I came here to the Dominican Republic I was warned by many other sailors that it just is not safe here. And yeah I guess it would be fair to say that the majority of the sailors warning me away from here were indeed Americans. I have been wondering about the genesis of this idea though.

The worries of the many naysayers seemed well founded when I got here, even the Navy people had warned me upon first arrival that it would not be safe for me if I tried to anchor in the adjacent bay with the cleaner waters. In fact nobody anchors there ever. I was warned “they” would come out to rob the boat. Stay in the bay where we (the DR Navy) can protect you. And I thought oh Eeek… where am I that I need protecting?

It is also understood that when sailing along the Dominican coastline you CANNOT anchor anywhere but in designated ports where the Navy can protect you. In fact for an island there seems to be a peculiar absence of sailboats here happily day sailing along the coast, it seems weird. Why wouldn’t a country with so much coastline be full of pleasure craft enjoying the waters?

When I arrived here I was encouraged to be afraid. Think about that though…. why…?  and by whom…?

I have been here for 2 months now… and I have to say this place actually seems very safe. Although it is true local poor people can and do steal, there does not seem to be any violent crimes or violent intent among the population. I was thinking about that last night. I am a girl…  sleeping naked and alone on her yacht in the bay…  with all the hatches and the companionway wide open…  and I admit that I do sleep with a knife…  I have never actually felt worried about the chance of anyone boarding my vessel uninvited.

See… the interesting thing about the Dominican Republic is how few rules there are, how much freedom they actually enjoy, and how little anybody actually cares about safety here. So it seems extremely doubtful the Navy actually cares about our safety.

So it seems to me that this aura of “be afraid” doesn’t actually have a good foundation in A-Priori reality. When ever you are being encouraged to “be afraid” it feels like a tried and true tactic of the American government, so it might be wise to look there.

Here is something interesting. Once you have been in Luperon for a while you will of course find Wendy’s bar and eventually find Norm. Norm is an amazing fountain of local knowledge and has been here for a long time. He is an excellent human being and very well informed about local politics and history. Buy him a beer and invite him to share and I promise it will be interesting.

Well…. hey Norm… what is with the fear mongering..? where does it come from…?

He explains that actually the entire Dominican Navy is funded by US dollars. That they are tightly controlled by the purse strings by the American national security agency. It seems that America is concerned about controlling the drug traffic and the waters outside of their borders. That the Americans are closely watching the territorial waters of the Dominican Republic by satellite.

IF the Americans see a boat moving in the waters anywhere around here they contact the nearest Navy Commandante and ask him… who is that boat..?   who is on board..?   and where are they going…?

IF he does not have the answers to those questions he gets in much trouble. So mostly he is afraid of not knowing the answers to those questions when the American National Security agency asks him. This is the real reason that nobody is allowed to move a boat around here without (the very important) Dispatchio the Navy must issue before you leave. They have to provide that information to the American National security agency in advance.

The Domincans do not actually care… they don’t give a crap at all. Its actually the Americans exerting tight control over us in another country…!

Yep… sounds like crazy talk… and is super weird… but apparently it is true.

WildChild cannot go for a fun day sail to stretch her sea legs because the Americans do not allow it. Now of course there has been push back from the local Ex-Pat sailors here… they have made a texting shortcut to achieving permission to day sail more efficiently. But still they dare not actually sail without Navy permission.

The funny thing is the Navy outpost here assigned to guard over the gringo sailor flock here has 1 small navy vessel here, but it does not work. Has not worked for years. If we did go sailing without their permission… there is very little they could actually do about it. If they want to even visit a boat in the bay here they have to ask one of us gringos to ferry them out in our dinghies! Pathetic right?

Weird huh…?  Like a twilight zone of insanity.

But whenever you get a whiff of fear mongering… always see what the Americans are up to first thing. It their favorite tactic. Check out the American news lately making Americans afraid to come to the DR because “it is so dangerous” ..  “look at how many Americans have died there mysteriously”….   All just wild untrue bullshit… but Americans swallow it whole. This place is more safe than most American cities.

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Lonely Heart Broken Lexi

I just finished making the last Episode in Season 1 of my YouTube videos today, episode 82. It will release Thursday. It was probably one of the hardest videos for me to make. It is of and about one of the lowest points in my life. So therefore my melancholy of sadness today.

The videos are now caught up to April of 2019, so will only be 3 months behind soon.

I have been thinking about this Adventure of mine.

It has been said that…

If you know how the journey will end…  You are NOT on an adventure. 

My friends tell me…  Lexi your life is anything but boring. Is that good or bad…?   Right now I am unsure.

See… Once upon a time I was deeply in love with a man whom I thought was my soulmate. We left on this adventure together. It was our mutual dream… to be achieved together. I had ideas and expectations about what it would be. Let’s say parameters of expectations and not details.

If you have been watching the adventure so far you know season 1 ended badly. The soulmate turned out to be a con man and alcoholic abusive dick (See Episode 82). I was completely emotionally devastated and the catastrophic ending of my dreams just crushed me.

I knew… I know… for sure 100% that I NEVER EVER want to be a solo sailor…  I NEVER EVER want to be alone on WildChild.

And yet look at my life… I am alone on WildChild far from home. I do not agree to be alone on WildChild… but the universe is funny that way, it often brings about exactly the opposite of what you want, Murphy’s law right?

When Elena suddenly decided to abandon me here and fly home… it devastated me yet again. I got heart broken and crushed a second time in 4 months. I cry a lot. I am so hurt inside… so heart broken and crushed…  I find it hard to function some days. Sometimes tears just slip down my cheeks out of the blue at the most unusual times.

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Last week I was having a particularly hard time keeping the well of pain pushed down. My soul began to swim in a soup of lonely despair and as it rose up inside it began to overwhelm me. It was a day of open tears for me.

I knew I had to do something about it… find some way to fix me before I collapsed. So that night after dark I dropped my dinghy into the still black waters of the harbor and quietly motored my way across the bay to the docks at Peurto Blanco marina and stowed the dinghy there. I walked alone in the dark back country roads to the abandoned resort up the hill where we do Yoga.

I had brought my blue tooth speakers with me and had the Benedictine Monks holy chanting loaded on my cell phone. I silently entered the open studio in the dark and stealthy as a cat made my way to the center of the room. I needed to meditate.

Just as I was setting up the speakers about to press play on the monks I heard a motorcycle approaching in the dark… uh oh. Suddenly I felt vulnerable. I was not going to be alone. What was coming…?

This motorcycle with 2 Navy soldiers drives right into the building and illuminate me in their headlight. They shut the engine off and say a simple Hola to me. Then they quietly move into the back corners of the room and sit in silence.

I was in a dangerous mood and honestly did not much care about their presence… I had a pressing spiritual pain to contend with. Fuck it…  I turned on the chants, moved to my Yoga mat in the middle of the room… and sat down to meditate under the stars.

I sat in contemplative silence for about half an hour. Just letting my mind try to capture my reality. What the fuck has happened to my life? How the hell did I end up here? What the fuck am I going to do now? What do I want for my life? What direction or goal should I set for myself? I am just so lost in my life right now.

Then the great sorrow came in buckets of shameless sobbing for about 20 minutes. The pain hidden in my soul just gushed forth unrelenting as a mountain stream. All the pain and sorrow found expression in my voice and the tears flowed down my cheeks into the ground. This is my life… and I must accept it and move forward.

Of course the next phase of spiritual healing after catharsis is exercise to physical exhaustion.

I have a black belt in Mudu-Kwon   Tae-Kwon-Do and 5 years of martial arts training in general. I allowed my body to move as it has been so well trained to do.

I stood up in the middle of the room and bowed to the empty space before me as I have been trained to do. I bowed my head in respect to ancestors and the universe as the pale moonlight cast shadows in the chamber. I assumed a fighting stance and began the dance.

As I have been trained I started with basic Kada’s and then moved on to spin kicks and combinations. Always performing each pre-arranged fighting combination from both sides, both stances, left side and right side.

The tempo of the dance increased and so did my heart rate and breathing. Sweat was pouring down my body making my skin slick with perspiration. The evening heat barely disturbed by the slight breath of wind rustling thru my arena. My mind slowly narrowing its focus to the immediate reality of my physical being, all emotions draining away into oblivion.

Then I switched the effort to circle fighting. Starting slowly at first you center yourself in your space and bow to the invisible opponents to conjure on the 8 axis’ around you. You imagine an attack from one of the angles and block and counter moving your attack 3 steps into the other space. Then within seconds you conjure an attack from one of the other axis’ and switch you attention there quickly. Your body spins punches blocks and kicks in every direction you keep moving and fighting until completely spent.

In my case, with my heart condition, I drove my heart rate up until my body could no longer sustain it and I collapsed onto the floor enveloped by complete oblivion. I woke up from the  blackness on the floor in the dark chamber alone breathing heavily. All my energy… all my emotions… completely empty now….   my spirit felt better, felt healed… for now.

When I could stand I bowed to the space and returned it to the world around me. I gathered my things and left, silently made my way home.

 

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I wonder what interesting stories those 2 Dominican soldiers who sat quietly in the shadows of the room went home and told their buddies about the crazy wild Gringa chic they watched that night.

Perhaps my reputation will only get worse from here…

but… no matter…  the pain had been put down for a while so I could function again in this purgatory of waiting here in Luperon.

In two more months the hurricane season will be over and WildChild and her wild captain will be free again to wander away.

 

Cheers sailors…

 

From Captain Lexi the deeply heart broken.

 

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