My sacred number is 44, given to me in a dream when I first moved to Cusco. In the dream, an Inkan spirit guide was leading me up a mountain. I was struggling to keep up with him. Finally he stopped, turned to me and gave me the number 44, saying, “Now you have the key to the portal.”
For nearly 20 years I have wondered what portal he meant. ‘Today is the day’, I thought when I woke up this morning. 44 days since I arrived in Florida. 44 days since I’ve been unable to return to Peru. ‘Something eventful is bound to happen today.’
I was riding on the beach road north to the border of Palm Beach. Nothing but high rise condos with no way to even see the ocean – not a bench in sight – shaded or otherwise. I turned around heading south when I spotted a hidden sandy entrance to the Intercoastal on the opposite side of the ocean.
I crawled through the marshy scrub trees for some shade. Comfortable, peaceful and quiet. An old coconut sitting on the fine white sand has taken root and is sprouting some new growth. Bright orange bugs were crawling on it. Talk about adaptability!
Meditating in my shaded secluded hide-away it came to me: Day 44 will be the last day I’ll name my days in Florida by number. This is my new home for now and portals exist everywhere, along with their keys. We stumble upon them by grace, usually when we’re looking for something else.
A new day has dawned in a new place I am still getting used to. As the Inkan guide told me many years ago, I have the key to the portal and that portal is everywhere I find myself – literally and figuratively. Now it’s just a matter of stepping through to see where the adventure takes me.
I’m glad to have you with me on the journey.
April 29, 2020