And What Did Your Heart Tell You?
Reflections on 9 months of leaving behind life as I knew it to explore the world through dance, yoga, art and nature
Dear friend, in your inbox is a note I have written specially to welcome and introduce you to this space. Your welcome note is offered as an important part of your experience here. If you haven’t already had a chance to, I invite you to read the note (titled “Welcome to A Tangerine Moon”) before you read this essay. To receive the welcome note and emails of my new posts, please subscribe for free here
In the spring of 2022, burnt by the life I had been living, I resigned without a plan from my 10 year career path as a lawyer in London to go on a period of slow, often solo, travel journeys in Portugal, Southern Spain, Switzerland, Peru and Japan.
From dancing flamenco, perfume-making and loom-weaving in Andalucía, traditional tile painting in Porto, hiking an ancient Incan trail to Machu Picchu in Peru, to completing 300 hours of yoga teacher training in the cradle of some of the most sacred mountains, valleys and forests of the world, dancing in the moonlight every evening in the Andes Mountains (at 3,600m above sea level), and at one edge of the world in Japan, stepping into the ancient remembrance of our place as humans in the vastness of this starry firmament — this is my nomad’s collection of some of my deepest lessons in the art of living and walking the journey back home to self.
“And What Did Your Heart Tell You?” was written in response to the life and creative inspiration sparked by Paulo Coelho’s “The Alchemist”, and is a mini-series published in four weekly essays:
The first essay (read it below):
o Part I — The Signs
o Part II — The Journey
The second essay (released on 25 August 2023):
o Part III — The Heart’s Treasure — Lessons in the Art of Living (1)
from the Nomad Collection: Portugal & Spain
The third essay (released on 1 September 2023):
o Part III — The Heart’s Treasure — Lessons in the Art of Living (2)
from the Nomad Collection: Switzerland
The fourth essay (released on 8 September 2023):
o Part III — The Heart’s Treasure — Lessons in the Art of Living (3)
from the Nomad Collection: Peru & Japan
Prelude
In the spring of 2022, I stepped off a metaphorical cliff’s edge into the unknown, burnt from life and burning up my 10 year career path of studying and practising as a lawyer in London (which itself had started in my late twenties as a third career change after time spent in journalism in Singapore, where I was born and grew up, followed by working in the international non-profit sector in New York City).
As I took slow, often solo, travel journeys in Portugal, Southern Spain, Switzerland, Peru, and Japan over nine months, I found that my teachers started appearing once I was ready as a student.
They spoke to me in languages that, at first, were wholly new to me — the languages of mountains, waterfalls, landscapes, the luminaries, the constellations, flowers, art, architecture, culture, food, emotions, sensations and memories.
As with all languages, the more I immersed myself in them, the more they opened their worlds to me.
Here are my glimpses, sometimes fleeting in encounter, yet always profound in impact, into some of the worlds I encountered.
Part I — The Signs
The First Sign: The Whisper
The French Alps, Chamonix — “The Mountain is You”
Perhaps some of those tentative steps towards the cliff’s edge had been taken back in the late summer of 2021.
Completely starved of nature, open space and freedom from one and a half years of being locked up as an urban dweller in the grips of a global pandemic, I had finally landed somewhere where the breathing felt easier.
I tumbled straight out of the airplane into the relaxed embrace of the French Alps, in Chamonix.
I was there for a week of yoga and hiking, on one of those periodic, too-short escapes from city and corporate life I found myself always jumping into whenever I could.
During an evening yin yoga session by candlelight, we were gently invited to contemplate —
“What does it mean to you to feel alive… to feel a sense of joy, curiosity and wonder in your days?”
Joy. Curiosity. Wonder.
I had the dictionary definitions of those words firmly in my pocket, but as to how they actually felt, I reached into the deep recesses of my mind and drew blanks.
Our teacher was talking about The Tibetan Book of the Dead, the classic Buddhist text setting out the comprehensive guide to living and dying, and she wondered —
“How would you live differently if you didn’t have the time you thought you had?”
I surprised myself by soaking my yoga mat with tears.
“Tears are welcome,” were the tender words I heard.
Still, I was grateful for the cloak of candlelight shadow in which I could wrap myself.
That night, I sat outside, face to face with the mountains, with the same two questions ringing in my ears.
I had no clue what the answers were.
Well, you’ll just have to find out, the mountains told me.
The Second Sign: The Straw (and the Camel)
London — Things Fall Apart
With those wheels set in motion, followed by the falling apart of just a few more of life’s significant things in the months after that (to give me those extra sharp nudges I needed), I left the office for the last time in March 2022.
I took with me nothing except for a sort of shabby fatigue and worn-out recognition — borne of a decade of pain, tears and unspoken grief for forever losses — that I had reached the end of pushing myself on all levels (physically, emotionally and mentally) to continue with what I had been doing, in so many aspects of life.
In the last argument that I’d had with my body and my spirit, I’d lost.
At the same time, I felt almost crushed by the invisible weight I was carrying — those boulders of unknowing and uncertainty about who I was and who I would be, in stepping away from life as I had known it, and had in fact been earnestly preparing for it, for the past 36 years of my existence.
This life — with all its structures, regiments, strictures, judgments and assessments about the achievement (or lack thereof) of expected outcomes and expectations to be exceeded — what was I without it?
Out of nowhere, I felt a stirring deep within me.
— Go, take a vacation from your mind. You’ve hung out there long enough.
— What?
— Your body, your heart, your spirit — do you feel them? Do you know what they’re about?
— Umm… I’m not sure… But, so, where do I go?
— All you need to do is listen. Then follow.
I guess that’s my plan now, then.
Part II — The Journey
Polaris, the North Star — “Wherever your heart is, there you will find your treasure”1
During those journeys into new external landscapes of the world, I encountered the internal landscapes of me. And I reunited — at times joyfully, at times tearfully, and sometimes both at once — with a familiar stranger who I came to recognize as myself, in a myriad of unforgettable ways —
〰️ as I dedicated myself to dancing and soaking in the soul-stirring art of flamenco over many enchanted hours in flamenco’s birthplace — the dazzlingly charming cities of Andalucía in Spain and the sun-drenched mountain villages of the Spanish Sierra Nevada
〰️ when my heart blossomed open while I wandered as if in a dream through the otherworldly beauty of the Alhambra, the captivating medieval Moorish-influenced city scapes of Granada and Sevilla, and the hidden secret gardens of Porto
〰️ in cultivating the art of devotion, patience and slowing down, as I learnt to paint traditional Portuguese azulejo tiles, apply the centuries-old craft of distilling and mixing essential oils to create perfume, and weave heritage Spanish Alpujarran rugs on a 150-year-old loom
〰️ with The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho on my bedside table during my travels, as I learnt to read the signs of the world and to decipher its messages for me through encounters, at different times and in different places, with mountains, waterfalls and gifts from friends, strangers, and strangers who became friends
〰️ in witnessing the next steps of my path unfold before me in the grounds of a cup of home brewed Arabic coffee, offered with warmth and kindness in the Swiss Riviera by a new friend, who I quickly discovered I had, in fact, known forever. From him I also learnt that those of us who drift into exile from our physical homes can still find belonging and rootedness in beauty, art, nature and a shared meal, no matter where we are
〰️ when I found myself crying tears of gratitude and belonging at the gift of self-acceptance, inner peace and clarity I received from sitting in spacious solitude at the foot of a waterfall and witnessing diamonds of sunlight shining a rainbow through her spray
〰️ in a slow, meandering hike to Machu Picchu, while basking in the wonder, history and magic of mystical ruins and ancient forests along a trail paved by the Incas of Peru
〰️ in fulfilling a secret promise to myself with the completion of 300 hours of teacher training in vinyāsa, hatha and yin yoga deep in the ancient mountains, sacred valleys and rolling forests of Peru and Portugal
〰️ as I danced in the moonlight every evening for two weeks, watched only by the starry sky, in community, ritual and magical ceremony high in the Andes Mountains (3,600m above sea level), learning to tell and listen to stories without words through Sacred Dance, a free-flowing meditative movement and embodiment practice with its roots in the Peruvian Andes
〰️ in hearing the song of my heart and the song of the universe coming together, as I stepped into a world born from the union of the imaginations of humans and of nature — on a glittering cliff’s edge overlooking the Bay of Sagami in Japan, where nature as art and art in nature merge and blend beautifully into one
And in all these ways of having life reflect my self back at me, I learnt my deepest lessons in the art of living — in what it means to feel, and to be, alive, while walking the unending journey back to self.
“To live, is that not enough?”
— D. T. Suzuki, Zen Buddhist philosopher
Here, in the upcoming essays of this series, The Heart’s Treasure — Lessons in the Art of Living, I have translated them — these lessons gathered during my travels, from the mountains, waterfalls, landscapes, cityscapes, luminaries, constellations, flowers, art, emotions, sensations, dreams, memories, and the heart — into the language of words.
I hope they speak to your heart and spark your own remembering.
〰️ 〰️ 〰️
Writer’s Note:
This is the first essay in the series titled, “And What Did Your Heart Tell You?”
Read the next essay, The Heart’s Treasure — Lessons in the Art of Living (1) from Portugal & Spain.
from The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho, a quote I keep close to my heart throughout my journey
what beautiful points of view, Suyin! amazing pics too! lovely to get to be in this corner of the world with you <3 (& i adore paulo coelho hehe)
This was a really yummy read<3