On Puerto Rico and embodying freedom
Even when our governing bodies don't grant it
Contemplation
What does freedom feel like to you? In your body?
In which ways can you practice accessing liberation?
Last weekend I had the pleasure of spending the weekend in Puerto Rico with two of my dearest friends.
It was my first time coming to this beautiful island, rich and vibrant with life. I spent most of the weekend in awe of Puerto Rico’s rich culture — from dancing in the streets to its deep respect for its stunning landscape where the sun and beaches were so beautiful every angle could have been a postcard.
This trip had been a bit of a rash, last-minute decision. My friends and I had talked about going to PR on inauguration day to escape from the looming threat of a second Trump administration. Tickets were too expensive so instead like all of us, we watched in horror as our democracy is crumbling before our eyes, our federal government being ripped apart like a pack of hyenas attacking its prey.
So when my friend called and said she was going to PR for a work conference and she had extra hotel point, I jumped at the invitation. It was a much needed reprieve as work and the world has been overwhelming and all-consuming.
Even though there is much discomfort leading to moments of relief like these, I have learned time and time again, that the pause, the reset, the rest, is exactly what I need to stay grounded and present.
Throughout the weekend, both in conversation and contemplation, freedom kept on reappearing. My friends educated me on the complex and often heartbreaking history of Puerto Rico, how after all these years, it still has not been granted the same rights as a “territory”, how America, in its self-righteous proclamation of democracy, has ruled over this island with a colonizer mentality and approach. To this day, Puerto Rico is governed by laws they cannot even vote on, a decision that dates back to the 1800s when America “acquired” the island during the Spanish-American war and decided to name it a territory over a state because they felt that the “aliens'“ didn’t deserve the same level of rights, and it has continued to remain a “commonwealth” intentionally trying to stave off adding a new population of voters which would throw off the balance of political power in our broken and rigged electoral college.
As a result, this has left the people of Puerto Rico in a constant existential crisis over statehood and independence, as they are still recovering from the devastating aftermath of Hurricane Maria while Bitcoin bros are buying up the island to avoid income tax.
Learning all of this, I was amazed by the energy of the island, how despite not having any kind of sovereignty, Puerto Ricans moved with such a freedom through their every day. I watched in awe as people filled the cobblestone streets, dancing salsa for hours, without a care in the world. Drums and trumpets echoed across the warm Caribbean air, setting the rhythm of the island to a different beat than I have ever heard. And as I stood in the water and looked at the coastline with its pristine beaches and palm trees, the waves of the Atlantic Ocean were some of the gentlest I have ever experienced. The liberating spirit of the island felt so palpable and in its own way, an act of resistance, of just being in the joy despite the systemic constraints and oppression they have endured for the last several hundred of years. That to me isn’t just survival or resilience, it’s liberation — and it’s something to learn from.
Arriving back at JFK was a rude awakening as NYC’s black and gray winter was a stark contrast to the vibrant pastels that were painted across Old San Juan. My phone incessantly dinged with notifications of how Trump, Elon and his goons have continued to hack away at our rights. It felt ironic, that here I was back in the land of the “free”, but felt more suffocated and bound than I had throughout the weekend.
And in that moment, I came back to my mindfulness practice, remembering that freedom, agency, sovereignty, even when not given externally, can be accessed internally with every breath, in every moment — if only we are present enough to see it. This is why I practice every day, so I can be alive in all the other moments of my life off the cushion.
Like that feeling of letting go I experienced in the water, piña colada in hand, taking in the abundant sun shining over all of us. Or that feeling of radical presence when I could feel every grain of sand moving between my toes, as the waves washed them back and forth from the ocean. Or that moment of feeling of body liberation, dancing without a care in the world to a song that I didn’t know or couldn’t understand, but just simply allowed my body to move.
When I got back to work and people asked me what Puerto Rico was like, I couldn’t do it justice with words. I found myself, describing it with a gentle swaying motion of my arms and hips, side to side like those same gentle waves I felt on my body from the ocean.
This is what freedom feels like, I thought. And I will be forever grateful to this island for reminding me of its power, how we can always access it no matter what our circumstances.
So that’s my invitation for you to contemplate this week:
What does freedom feel like to you? Try not to get too theoretical or too conceptual, what does it literally feel like in your body?
When and where have you touched this spirit of liberation? In which ways can you practice accessing it? Especially when your spirit needs to be resourced or restored?
Please share in the comments so we can learn from each other 🙏
Until next time, I will continue to be thinking of how free Puerto Rico made me feel and I am wishing you that same feeling.
Love this, amiga: “I found myself, describing it with a gentle swaying motion of my arms and hips, side to side like those same gentle waves I felt on my body from the ocean.”
Thank you for your lovely post. Puerto Rico’s rich history is something to be learned, revered and never forgotten. Bad Bunny’s video Debi Tirar más Fotos encapsulates the growing changes of the island through the US’s colonization of the island and we need to do everything we can to preserve what is left of that beautiful culture. ¡Que Viva Puerto Rico libre!