manifest.

So, needless to say I am off to a rocky start.
For now the beach will have to wait.

I will give a short rendition of the happenings of the night in question, then for real I'm letting it go. There is no need to hold onto angry or rage, however just it feels.

I had to wait for 3 hours in the bus station for my bus to go to Santa Marta... the Caribbean beach. So I took that time to write and write and write. By the time my bus was about ready and pulling up to the station I was about ready for a nap which was perfect since it would take roughly 17 hours to get there.

Lining up to put my big back pack with all my clothes into the bottom of the bus a well dressed young man came up to me. "Santa Marta?" He questioned me. I told him yes... he led me to the front of the line helped put my bag under and gave me back a ticket to receive my bag when I arrived. Then he proceeded to ask to see my ticket, had a quick glace and showed me where my seat was. Now, this is the part that I have to admit that I should have been paying more attention to myself but, that will have to wait until next time.
He grabbed my back and put it in the luggage storage above my head, this is when I grabbed my luggage to put next to my feet, always by my feet when traveling. "No, this is regulation, you cant keep luggage by your feet." came the voice of the young man I was sure worked for the bus. So I kept my bag up there and the man walked to the back of the bus. I wouldn't even say a minute later I thought... "No, I don't care if its regulation I'm keeping my valuables next to my feet. Looking up I realized my bag was gone. Running off the bus the man was long gone. Given the fact that there are over 70 police officers in a small bus station.... they didn't even try to do anything. I filled out a report and was asked if I wanted to continue my trip to Santa Marta. Well I had a credit card and phone to cancel so I declined. Came in the following day to follow up on the report and see about the security camera feed... Everyone had a different story placing the blame somewhere else and in the end all I got was a really nice cup of Colombian coffee and a promise that they would call me in 2 or 3 days...

Not going to lie, I was not happy, yet some how I stayed positive... The first day was a bit off and my dreams reflected it. But, I still have my bank card, my clothes, a book and a pen... well a friend gave me a pen haha. Although I have to start my writing all over again and most of my pictures and video are gone... Although I am hopeful of getting something back... I have to accept where I am right now... On my way back from the bus station and talking again with security and police after I left, I saw something that helped change my outlook.  A man was walking down the grassy divider as I drove by in a taxi... I realized that the man had lost both of his hands just above the wrists. I immediately sympathized with him, hoping that the man would have an easy life despite the fact that his hands were gone. At this point I had an epiphany that... all the talk in the hostel the last few days had been about muggings, how dangerous Bogota was to walk around, pick pockets and the risk of having anything expensive... and instead of letting those thoughts go I struggled to tighten my grip around my material 'things' and declared that I would fight someone if I had caught them... real smart Tyler real smart....

Not only did I just write over 25 pages on manifestation just before I got on the bus, I was manifesting my shit being stolen without recognizing what I was doing... so much for paying attention and allowing awareness to break through and leave fear behind eh?

So, seeing the man without hands... I could work my entire life making billions of dollars and could never buy that man his hands back. I do not know what happened to him, accident or whatever... But I will say that the things I lost I can get back with time. Anger and rage solve nothing. I had a message given to me by two different people in the last few days prior and after the stolen bag incident and that message was... "live-channel-project from the heart" fear cannot live in the heart.

Lesson learned.

Now that that is over with, I have a few things in Bogota that might keep me here for a while, a writers group, a conversation class that pays a little bit of cash and a friend to help me with Spanish... all the things that I wanted. Even though its cold here and Bogota doesn't have a beach which I have been craving, I will stay here until I feel it is right to leave. I have been putting off buying a hoodie, but I might do that today.

I bought a small point and shoot camera, it won't replace my pictures, but I also won't waste a moment on not having pictures either.

Much Love everyone, Keep living from the heart.