Driving through Mexico, I’ve crossed a lot of small bridges. Each bridge or “puente” has a sign with its name. Puente Santa Maria. Puente de Oro. Puente Lo Que Sea. 

And then there was: “Puente Sin Nombre.” Bridge Without a Name. 

First of all, hilarious. Why? What was it about this bridge that made them decide, no, we’re not even going to try. But also…calling it “no name” is a name.

Aaanyway. It also hit something deeper.

My whole life right now feels like a bridge without a name. I am on the road, moving my entire life from LA to Mexico. Building a bridge between two distinct chapters. A bridge between who I was and who I will be. A bridge between the past and the future. A bridge between what I know and what I don’t. 

We are ALL, ALWAYS in transition. We’re ALL, ALWAYS between where we’ve been and where we’re going. 

We are all always moving into the unknown.

This particular transition has tested me down to the rawest nub of bone and taken everything I have.

But on faith, I am crossing this bridge with no name. I am driving 5 hours a day at 130 kilometers per hour toward whatever is on the other side. And trusting the destination. 

We don’t know what’s on the other side of the bridges we cross, the thresholds we pass through, and the decisions we make. We never really know what the bridge should be called until we fully understand where it brought us.

Puente sin nombre,

bridge with no name,

I am trusting you with all my weight,

to carry me somewhere 

I’ve never been.

Puente sin nombre,

bridge with no name,

I got on on one side

but can’t be sure what’s around the bend.

I know what’s already been under my feet.

I know the person I’ve been.

I thought I was taking her with me,

but every mile strips another layer.

Underneath,

is someone I’ve never met.

Puente sin nombre,

bridge with no name,

take me.

Take me where I cannot know,

I cannot plan, 

I cannot predict.

You’re the only one that knows the truth.

I won’t know until I get where I’m going.

I won’t know until I look back

and you’re nowhere to be seen.

I had a dream the other night where some lines of a poem came through. One of the characters said them to me right before I woke up. This happens sometimes and it’s very exciting. It feels like someone or something is speaking to you through your own subconscious. 

I try to be available to receive inspiration as often as I can. I use meditation, visualization, writing and talking to people to keep myself clear and open. I believe we can all use these tools to plug into the Universe.

But sometimes, life piles up and my pipe gets clogged. I sit down to write and everything feels lame and overthought. Or I lay down to meditate and my brain keeps pulling me out.

I’m currently on the East coast where I grew up, visiting people and places from my past. This triggers ALLL these old versions of myself, and A LOT of interference. I’m trying to keep my channel clear and stay present, but I’m experiencing an avalanche of old thoughts and feelings threatening to bury me. It’s been really frustrating, and sad. 

Before this trip, I felt so strong. I had tasted the next version of myself coming down the pipeline. She felt SO GOOD. Clear, grounded, and easily in flow. Now, it feels like I’m falling back into old patterns and losing touch with the person I’m becoming.

In retrospect, these moments of regression always precede a big leap forward. I know it. I’ve seen it a million times, in myself and others. It’s almost as if they were the necessary pulling back of the slingshot before we launch forward. Still, it is hard to weather these feelings as they are happening. I keep meditating, I keep visualizing, I keep writing and talking, and it’s still hard.

Sometimes, that’s all you can do. To just allow it to be hard and stop trying to force yourself to feel different.

And so I tell myself, as if I’m that new version of myself from the future, “It’s okay. I love you. I’m coming.”