Calling It Quits

Life threw us a curveball, and I realized I was ready to call it quits — not on the project, but on trying to make sense of it all.

Everything we planned started unraveling at once.

And in the middle of it, I realized I was done… with seeking.

About a month ago, we received some potentially life-altering news that could upend years of planning—and put our finances at serious risk.

After completing all the necessary permits for the road and earth movement on our build site, the city suddenly announced they were going to deny our building permit. Normally, this step is just a formality — the final rubber stamp after months of meeting every requirement.

Now, after investing nearly $900,000 into this dream, we’re facing the possibility that we may not be able to build our home. And if that’s the case… the retreat is off the table too. As it stands, the property isn’t resale-worthy: the lawsuit, incomplete roads, and an unbuildable site make it nearly impossible to recover our investment.

Needless to say, this shook us to our core.

We’ve cycled through waves of frustration, despair, disbelief, and feeling victimized.

Here we are, doing our best to re-jungle land that was once clear-cut for cattle. We removed a pig farm that had been dumping sewage into a river where people swim. We’re building off-grid with an advanced, eco-friendly Bionest water-treatment system. Yet now, the authorities want to verify whether there’s a spring near our build site — not even on our land, but on a neighbor’s.

Because it’s rainy season, they have to wait until February, March, or April to make that determination.

Never mind that the water authority already inspected and approved everything.

It feels like the work of a disgruntled neighbor who’s been trying to pressure us into buying his land. Since we’ve chosen not to (and don’t want to reward manipulative behavior), he’s been filing complaints with the city — and they, feeling obligated to act, have stalled our progress.

We’re not trying to get away with anything.

But right now, it feels like nothing is going our way.

To make matters worse, we had $42,000 caught in wire-transfer limbo — unsure if we’d ever see it again.

All of this took me into some dark places, questioning everything.

It stripped me bare.

I felt exhausted, disoriented, and ashamed — foolish for dreaming so big, and for getting swept up in the mess. It’s felt like an existential crisis, a dark night of the soul, and a spiritual betrayal all at once.

I couldn’t rely on my usual optimism or my trust in the universe. It felt like everything I leaned on had cracked.

All I could do was care for the sheer amount of stress my body was holding. Thankfully, I had a tool from my retreats — TAT (Tapas Acupressure Technique). After one self-session, I felt a palpable release. My body softened. My breath deepened. My heart stopped racing. I began to open again. I’ve used it every day since, sometimes with DeWayne.

Externally, nothing has changed. But internally, everything has. I feel calmer, more focused, and stronger — like years of accumulated tension have finally dissolved from my body, mind, and heart.

During this time, I’ve deleted all my Gene Keys, Human Design, and astrology resources. I stopped pulling oracle cards, stopped asking my pendulum for answers. I stopped seeking explanations or guidance.

Ultimately — I stopped seeking.

When this all began, we talked about calling it quits—letting the jungle reclaim itself, erasing any trace of our presence. Leaving it as our gift to the planet.

While that could be an option, I realized how easily I can dismantle my life and start over somewhere new. I’ve gotten good at it. What I haven’t yet built capacity for is staying.

For now, we’re choosing to stay.

We’ll see what the dry season brings, and move to Plan D, E, or F if we need to.

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I used to look for the spiritual lesson in everything.

Now I’m just trying to see what’s in front of me.

It’s slower here—quieter.

I don’t yet know what this is.

Maybe it’s simply what happens when life doesn’t go the way we imagined, and there’s no need to over-spiritualize it.

For now, we’re here—waiting, breathing, noticing.

Not rushing to make meaning.

Simply being. Simply staying.

🌸