January 8, 2008
My travels over the holidays took me to Tulum Mexico, a sparse beach on the Yucatan. I stayed in a grass shack with no electricity, no phones and sand for a floor. It was Gilligans Island without the professor. I was a castaway with a hammock.

At night I would walk down the beach, with a view of the sky that seemed to stretch into deep space.

Occasionally my flashlight would come across little white crabs, often shocked for a moment, then beat a hasty retreat into the ocean. Occasionally I would come across one that felt he had no means of escape. After evaluating his situation, he would decide he had nothing left to do but fight. He would thrust his little quarter inch pinchers into a ninja karate stance and threaten to snip my head clean off if I took another step closer. I could almost hear his best Bruce Lee. I would admire his courage, and leave him to feel the joy of victory.

The highlight of the stay, was after such a long period of media and stress detox, I spent a few hours in a sweat lodge with a Mayan Shaman. The sweat lodge ceremony, or "Temazcal", is often performed at the transition between years, to shed the old baggage of the previous year (or years) and bring into the new year only that which serves your true authentic self. For this time of my life, it was perfect.