Walk or Gawk: Finding My Feet in San Miguel de Allende

As many of you know, Mark and I have embarked on a six-month adventure, with our first stop being the enchanting town of San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. Along the way, I promised to share not only the beauty of our travels but also the deeper spiritual lessons that arise. So, let’s dive in…

It’s nearly impossible to capture in words the magic of Mexico. So much of its essence lives in the senses. My eyes are in a constant dance, mesmerized by vibrant colors that paint every corner—from the intricate textiles to the earthy clay art to the breathtaking murals that grace the walls. And the people! The warmth in their eyes, the richness in their smiles—it’s all deeply humbling.

But it’s not just the visual beauty that captivates me. The air itself feels alive, with fragrances that swirl and beckon. The streets are infused with the comforting aroma of fresh tortillas, a scent that immediately provides familiarity and a sense of belonging. Meanwhile, our temporary home is nestled in a garden overflowing with fragrant blooms. Every morning, as I step out onto our terrace, I am embraced by their sweetness.

Ah, the terrace! A rooftop haven where we have an almost unobstructed view of the city. San Miguel’s night skyline is pure magic. Even at this time of year, the evenings are often warm enough to sit and savor the sights, sounds, and spirit of this place. Church bells echo in the distance, spontaneous fireworks burst into the sky for reasons I can’t quite discern, and the lively murmur of people below is a melody all its own.

Yet, lest you think it’s all perfection, I must tell you about the streets. Oh, the cobblestone streets! In our neighborhood, every step feels like an adventure. Uneven surfaces challenge my balance at every turn. A fellow expat wisely told me, “You can walk, or you can gawk, but you can’t do both.” How true! Navigating these streets demands my full attention, forcing me to be fully present, grounded, and in my body. There’s no space for drifting thoughts of work or plans; instead, I am laser-focused on where I place each foot. My whole body must engage, and I’ve quickly discovered muscles I forgot I had!

With no car at our disposal, walking has become a daily necessity. Each day, I grow a little stronger. Sure, when my legs protest, we hail a taxi or call Oscar, our trusted driver. But I’ve committed to walking more, not just for practicality, but for my health and well-being. The cobblestones are teaching me, step by step, how to reclaim the strength I’d overlooked.

Spiritually, this newfound connection to my feet has been transformative. Instead of pondering spiritual ideas from a distance, I am fully immersed in the experience of creation—within me and around me. The human body is nothing short of a miracle, don’t you think? Our dear friend John Mercer once reminded me, “Your body will do what you tell it to do. Your mind, on the other hand, may need a little more convincing.” How true that rings now!

So, as I walk a little farther each day, I remind myself to relax into the present moment. To let the beauty of this place rise and greet me. To savor every sensation that washes over me. This, truly, is just the beginning.

Lesson One: Be fully present, from your head to your toes. That’s where the real magic happens.