This week taught me to believe in magic.
The magic of twenty-two strangers showing up in Mexico to learn, sweat and create.
To get uncomfortably vulnerable.
To celebrate being silly and alive while flowing to Motown, Tupac and Jose Gonzalez.
The magic of creating something that did not exist prior to us dreaming it up and making it happen.
Of collaborating with another woman.
A woman that inspires the shiznit outta me and helps me be better.
The magic of yoga and goals.
On a mat, on a paddle board, on a beach.
The magic of leaning back on one another.
Feeling someone else’s sweat, skin and breath in a way that simply feels humanizing and beautiful.
The magic of karaoke, shedding layers, Mexican beer and laughter.
The magic of being truly seen.
And truly celebrated.
A week ago, just before I left, my friend Tyler texted me:
Mary Beth five years ago would be so happy if she knew what she was doing now.
She would and she is.