There may come a time in your life when something happens that leads you to question everything that you know deep down to be true…

It documents what came to be my biggest test of both patience and faith.

Faith is something I speak of often. Hell - I even wrote a whole poem about it, and have performed it to countless people in many different scenarios - probably in excess of 100 times now…

But I realised during this time that it’s easy to have faith when your life is going well. But when out of nowhere - shit really hits the fan - this is when we get to experience our true tests of faith.

In the essence of making a potentially very long story a little shorter and sharing the main golden nuggets of this experience with you - I will just briefly wrap up the journey that led to this event for the sake of context.

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I’m writing this from the shores of Lake Atitlán, Guatemala. It’s my second time in this magical place. A place where life offers you it's most incredible and unexpected opportunities. Opportunities of a life-time that are sure to change the course of your future... forever.

This time around I have returned to run my first 6 day retreat. Following on from that - I'm lucky and privileged enough to be heading to the Momentom Collective - An incredible new-age circus movement for spiritualists and digital nomads that I was fortunate enough to cross paths and form bonds with the first time I was here on the lake 2 years ago.

Everything is just so wonderful - My first retreat has been a great success after over a year of planning and conscious manifestation. The sadness that could have taken over me as the last guests leave Guatemala is replaced by a pure bliss, joy and gratitude that overwhelms my body as I head straight down to join the Momentom crew and re-unite with thesemagicians that I am so excited to be co-creating and collaborating with for the rest of my time here at the lake.

The first week is glorious - we eat community dinners in the new ‘Circus Castle’ as the final constructions and upgrades of the new restaurant at our venue are just being finished off. A crew of over 30 strong and rising -

This first week I am scheduled twice on the weekly agenda. First I am to give a talk on hypnotherapy and to lead a group hypnosis session. Secondly, to DJ and provide a dance experience on the Friday night to bring the week of activities to a close and get bodies moving and grooving.

As the last tune plays out and we approach our sound curfew at 10pm - the public crowd is clearing off as it reduces back down to just the lucky artists here in residency at Momentom.

As a few of us sit by the sacred fire, we are enjoying the last high vibrations of the evening before getting some rest, ready for the weekend ahead.

As is often the case - I am one of the last there. I roll myself one last little joint of the night - and as I am about to sit there and smoke it by the fire - suddenly something calls me to walk just meters away to the lake's edge instead. As I walk to the edge - I notice a dock that protrudes out into the lake that I had never really acknowledged before. 'Perfect', I think - I’ll take these last sacred silent moments of night time stillness to go and sit at the end of the dock, feeling fully immersed in the lake - to meditate and to enjoy my last smoke of the day...

As I walk down the dock I feel flashlights shining on me and I hear voices close by. With a quick glance across my shoulder I get the idea that it's the local police force - and so I slip the joint into my pocket and sit down, ready to meditate, half-panicking but also convincing myself to just play it cool…

After all - I’m just a good-hearted traveller who’s come to sit on the dock and relax before going to bed.

However within a minute of beginning to meditate I can feel their presence and their flashlights quickly starting to get closer… and after a minute or two I feel the impulse that it was probably best if I just get out of there - an impulse that comes just a few moments too late for me to escape their ambush.

As I walk back down the dock to the shores of the beach - there they are - five police officers blocking off my exit onto the beach.

They do not ask who I am, or what I am doing - they simply demand to look inside my backpack.

I deny them at first and question why they want to look inside as I try to explain I have nothing to hide, and that I am about to go to bed.

But the chief is insistent whilst the other four look on, exit blocked, waiting to see what they would find in my bag when I inevitably give in and hand it over to them...

It’s not long before the pressure of their demand and their insistency leads me to doing just that - reluctantly of course - as I am now realising that there are things in there that I don't want the police to find…

The chief opens the bag and starts fumbling through in the dark - and within seconds he pulls out the bag of maijuana that I have inside…

It doesn’t look good. Although it’s not an excessive amount - I’ll admit it’s still a sizeable amount and probably contains somewhere in the region of 5-10 grams of weed.

Truth is - I am totally addicted at this point - an addiction that I’d allowed to take hold of me once again just a few weeks before my retreat had started.

They demand that I go with them to the station right there and then in the dark of the night…

I feebly try to resist but know deep down that it is futile - It's just me and the five of them there, in the dark, with nobody around… Thoughts of trying to run were quickly stamped out by the knowing that I would make it a thousand times worse for myself if I did… So I have no choice but to agree.

However, at this moment inspiration strikes and I realise that there is still just one member of the Momentom crew by the sacred fire just 10 metres away from where I am. An incredible angel called Diego - an absolutely solid and sound man from Mexico who I’d not really had a moment to connect with properly during our first week. I tell the officers that I want to at least advise my friend that I am being taken - so that he can tell everyone else in the morning and it won't become some great worrying mystery as to where I had disappeared to.

Thankfully, being from Mexico, Diego’s mother tongue is Spanish. As he rushes over and starts inquiring about what's happening - I explain quickly what is going on and that I am about to go with them to the station.

Bless his soul - he really tries his best in this very moment to convince them to let me stay - he explains to them that I am an artist living here at the hotel and is thinking of everything he can do to try and justify why I am in someway special and shouldn’t have to go with them.

I’m eternally thankful to say that Diego then accompanies me through town - as the five of them escort us to the police station that is roughly a 10 minute walk through the dark, desolate streets that I am so used to seeing so vibrant and full of energy...

The whole way there, Diego tries to reason with them further. They tell us that they’d caught somebody else just recently, and when they decided to let him go without following through, they then found the same person again just days later still smoking. So unfortunately for me it had become my turn for them to make a real example of me. Whether this story is true or not, I’ll never really know, and in truth it doesn’t really matter. They don’t need to have a reason to make an example of me. I’ve broken a law that is taken very seriously here in Guatemala - and it is their job to make me pay for it.

We arrive at the station and the long, arduous process of my arrest begins. As we sit there and the paperwork gets initiated - my bag is emptied and they take every single item out - one piece at a time. I am slightly nervous as to what else they may find. I’m thankful to say they do not come across anything else that gives either of us any real cause for concern.

This whole process goes on to take several hours, leading us into the early hours of the morning before the whole thing is finally through.

The whole time, Diego is there with me, still doing his best to try and reason with them. Already at this point I am beyond grateful for him - an obvious angel in my life - for without him so much would have been lost in translation - I would have be alone, frightened and even more vulnerable without his protective, fatherly presence there.

They tell me that I will be there until the morning, and that the next day they will take me to jail to spend a few days there in order to ensure that I learn my lesson. The chief really has it in for me - and I am sure that if I had have been alone and it was entirely up to him, he would have sent me to the ‘bad prison’ - what I can only imagine would be a rough place that contains the real criminals... people who would likely relish at the chance to have a fresh new piece of gringo meat to beat on.

Thankfully - Diego manages to convince them that that really isn’t necessary - repeating over and over again that I am a good man with a good heart and hadn’t meant to disrespect the laws of Guatemala. I can't technically claim to beinnocent considering the circumstances - But I can claim ignorance.

Because yes - I was totally ignorant to be carrying around a bag of weed with me. I’d become complacent. I’d always felt so safe here in San Marcos - and weed smoking is a pretty common occurrence amongst many of the travellers that find their way here. It’s kind of the norm…

But to forget where I am - to not realise and understand the severity of something that doesn’t even feel like a crime to me - is totally ignorant of me. To venture out late at night into public property alone, to smoke this illegal substance, whilst carrying a decent amount of it in my backpack is in one word -

Stupid.

This first night in the station is hard enough. After realising there really is nothing he can do right now to help me any more than he already had - Diego leaves and promises to return in the morning. I estimate that around 2-3am or so, the paperwork has at last been filed, and the five police officers that are all a part of the process retire to their sleeping quarters on the property as a new officer comes in to guard me until the morning whilst I attempt to sleep. However - sleeping in handcuffs on a cold hard floor isn’t the easiest of tasks - especially with so much uncertainty about what the following days will hold in store for me.

Needless to say - I don’t get even a wink of sleep this night - lying on the floor awkwardly and uncomfortably... just wondering what experience awaited me next.

I begin to chant a mantra in my head that I'd learnt recently from a dear sister on the lake - repeating it easily over a hundred times as I hold my hand to my heart - hoping that it’s vibration may hack the quantum field, alter their mentality and affect their decision to send me away to prison…

The mantra goes -

I repeated it over and over and over - trying to infuse as much faith into the words as possible… It doesn’t seem to work as I was hoping it might…

But later it proves to be true.

I lie there wandering what other Jedi Mind Tricks I might be able to employ to help my situation whilst trying to get comfortable enough to at least drift off for a little while...

The clock keeps ticking and slowly the last hours of the night pass on by before I ever manage to succeed in that.

As the sun rises, the officers awaken and a new day begins. I spend the rest of this day in cuffs, lying or sitting on the floor, trying over and over again to find some level of comfort that might allow me to fall into some rest or sleep.

Diego comes back throughout the day and it becomes clear that at some point later that day - I will be taken to Sololá - A town on the other side of the lake where I will be detained until I can get my ‘Audience’ - which is the hearing where the judge decides your fate based on the crime committed and evidence produced by either side.

At this moment - I accept my fate. I know I am going to be 'banged up abroad' for the first time in my life - in a foreign prison where I really have no idea what might be awaiting me there.

It’s not until around 4pm on that long, difficult first day at the police station that there begins to be some sign of movement. Thankfully, my angel Diego had brought me some supplies the night before that keep me going. If it wasn’t for him - I wouldn’t have eaten or drunk anything that day - something that was of absolutely no concern to the police… apart from the only female police officer there that had kindly offered me her apple from her lunch - which I gratefully accepted.

At around 5pm - Diego gets the call that he has 15 minutes to get me whatever supplies I need to take with me - the important things being a bed, a blanket, a pillow, some food, and anything else he can muster that might be of use to me during my upcoming journey to jail - a place where absolutely nothing is provided for the people imprisoned there. Thankfully… he makes it happen - and just before we are about to embark on our journey he arrives with a thin foldable mattress, two blankets and a pillow - so at the very least I would have a good chance at being comfortable and cosy during my time there. He also has 80Q (equivalent to roughly £8 English pound) so that I can get some food for this night and perhaps the next morning.

The supplies get bundled into the back of the police pick-up, and we take off… I’m being driven through town with the two chief officers… embarrassed - with my head down - to discover the fate that awaits me in Sololá prison.

When we arrive - the energy is very different to the place I have just come from. A busy town with lots of traffic. We stop just before arriving at the station so I can buy some dinner. The only option I have is fried chicken and chips from the generic street vendors that are so common here in this part of the country. I get what I can, which the chief officers ties up in a black plastic bag before I can eat it, and he re-cuffs me before they bundle me back into the truck. We arrive at a police station where I go through an extensive finger and hand print collection process, as well as having my photo taken. If I wasn’t on file before… now I am for sure. Once this is over - they re-cuff me once more, take me back to the truck and drive me around the corner to the actual cell.

As we arrive I guess it must be around 6:30 - 7:00pm. Upon pulling up outside, the officers at the station peer in. One of them chimes in with what I think must have meant "What did you catch today then?" as he sniggers whilst leering into the back seat of the car to look at me. I feel like a caged animal. The people I feel most unsafe around are the police - and I hope that they aren’t going to cause me more trouble than I’d thought.

At this point as I initially sit in the station, I ask if I can eat my food while I wait - which is now stone cold. I’m so hungry so that doesn't really matter too much. I am just grateful to be relieved of the agitation of the hand-cuffs for a few minutes, and also to be relieved of the hunger that has built up since my last proper meal the previous night at 7pm.

Once I finish eating, they take me back to where the cell is and they handcuff me to a grotty looking metal banister of a staircase. He tells me I have to wait until I will be put in the cell but doesn’t explain why. I turn to peer into the cell behind me and there's a topless guy standing there, holding onto the bars, raising his eyebrows at me and blowing kisses. This proceeds as he continues making other strange gestures and facial expressions of which I'm not entirely sure the meaning behind. I start to consider if I actually want to get in that cell, or if I’d prefer to just stay cuffed up to the stairs all night. They leave me there for around four hours. Before long I reach over and just about manage to grab my folded up bed with my one free hand and I dump it on the floor beneath me. Through exhaustion I manage to fall asleep with my wrist awkwardly bent at a 90 degree angle as it remains cuffed up to the metal railing of the stair's banister.

Before I decide to get comfortable while I wait - I’m sat in a chair just staring at my wrist as it’s bound to the stair case - limiting my movement and causing me great discomfort. I realise there and then just how violated and trapped I felt. I ponder at how unjust it is where in this world, your freedom and YOUR OWN PHYSICAL BODY can be taken away in an instant by those in 'positions of authority’ for such trivial reasons. But as I sit there and contemplate the concepts of freedom and free will - suddenly my first powerful revelation of this experience dawns on me.

Yes - I'm sitting here in physical hand-cuffs that have been imposed on me against my will by somebody else who has no idea who I am and what my life is about. But in truth I was walking around every single day in my own set of handcuffs that I had voluntarily put on myself - and not only had I put them on myself - but I'd found a million ways to justify why they were there. These invisible, metaphorical handcuffs were a result of my currently out-of-hand addiction to nicotine and marijuana…

I realise why this apparently unfair thing is happening to me now. The Universe has set this up as it's the only way I am going to listen and get the message - I realise how important it is that now is the time to free myself from the limiting and debilitating effects of addiction once more.

I feel grateful there and then and thank God (the Universe) for doing this for me. I acknowledge I have now learnt my lesson and can see that these few days in isolation will force me to go without and allow me the time and space to let my body adjust to not having these substances coursing through my veins. I truly am very grateful in this moment as this potent realisation strikes me whilst staring at my wrist cuffed to the railing…

At what must be around 11pm they wake me up so they can un-cuff me and take me into the cell… I’m surprised to see that actually there are over ten people all in here - with various dirty-looking mattresses and make-shift beds made up around the perimeter of the room. I keep my head down, set my bed up and bed down within minutes. Before the lights go down - the topless guy who had been the first to greet me from behind the bars comes over and asks if I have food. I did have a black bag with a packet of crisps and some other processed, crappy, sugary-cake type products which were the only things I could buy in the tiny shop that was next to the chicken stand. He says that the food should go over there, pointing to the other corner of the room, and he takes the bag without saying any more. As I put my head down to the pillow I hear him laughing and packets opening as he passes the snacks around to the others in the room. I ask in Spanish if he can save me some for the morning and give him a thumbs up to signify my co-operation…

In the morning we awaken very early to the sound of the topless kiss guy (we’ll named him E for now) violently ‘hocking up loogies’ and spitting, clapping loudly and raising everyone from their slumber. I quickly get to know that the first part of the morning routine here is to clear everyone's beds up to the sides so that we can clean the floor…

They throw me a broom and tell me to sweep. Once swept, I’m given old washcloths to wash in the hand-washing station. Once wrung out, there’s five or six of us giving the floor its initial wipe down with the wet cloths. Then E walks around spraying some sort of cleaning agent on the floor and we follow him around, crouching down to the floor, mopping it up with the cloths. Then we each grab a towel from an old, filthy-looking collection that are hanging up on a concrete post in the middle of the room - and we walk around whipping the towels at the floor like flags in the wind to help the floor to dry faster. Then finally we wash the cloths once more in the basin and this process is complete. Each prisoner puts their bed back in it's place and returns to lying down - now fully awake and well out of the land of sleep and rest.

I will outline the rough itinerary that each day entailed so that as I explain my continuing revelations you will have an idea of how each day played out aside from all that.

The most beautiful thing that I do not expect is to find the same ritual here in this prison with these ‘criminals’ that we practice back home in San Marcos - which is the ritual of stopping before eating to give thanks. At first, for this breakfast, I think I am being treated to something surprisingly gourmet considering the environment. It appears to be two plates of what I mistake to be shrimp. Upon closer inspection, I realise these aren’t shrimp - they are ‘chicharonnes’ - which is basically deep-fried pig skin (we know them as ‘pork scratchings’ in the UK). The breakfast consisted of these two plates and tortillas to share between the 11 of us. Simple. Disgusting. Malnourishing. But still… beggars can’t be choosers - and I'm hungry. Despite the simplicity and quality of the meal, everyone stops to give thanks to God or whatever other power they believe in before we all dive in to get our share of the communal meal.

In between these meal times there is really nothing to do other than shower (a bucket of cold water with a smaller bowl floating on the inside for splashing on yourself) or wash your clothes by hand. Each day, that day's newspaper would be delivered and so some people read. Board games had previously been made on the back of pizza boxes, and there is a deck of cards too. On this first day I learn a new game similar to ‘Rummy’ but with some Guatemalan twists and variations.

It's easy to forget how long a day is until you are trapped somewhere with nothing really to do. It being especially more difficult with a language barrier that still exists despite learning Spanish on and off for over five years now.

The first day is long, boring and a difficult adjustment. But in my mind - my hearing or my ‘Audience’ will be happening the next day - at which point they are sure to release me with a fine - considering the pettiness of my crime and the fact that I am a first-time offender…

Monday dawns and at around midday, as we are about to gather for lunch, I feel excitement as I see Diego pop up at the door to the cell. What a relief to see his face and feel his energy - and to be able to talk English to someone who I felt knew me better than anyone else around me - although we’d really only just met that night that I was arrested just 3 days before.

He comes equipped with some supplies. A Tupperware box with some food from the kitchen back home - a bag with 2 hard-boiled eggs and 2 hand-made ‘bliss-balls’ (which are so delicious), as well as some extra clothes - two spare tops and some socks. Along with that - he hands me two books and a hand-written note from John, a legend of a man and one of the co-founders of Momentom. I can’t explain what it means in these moments to read the words and receive his heart-warming message. More than everything else, these words alone that held the vibration of love and hope within them went a long way to improving my mood and reinstating my faith that is just beginning to be shaken in these moments.

I ask Diego what's going on and he explains that everyone back home is doing everything they can to support me and get me out of there as soon as possible - but with the nature of bureaucracy in Guatemala - not only is it a slower process than we all thought and hoped, but it means that many different strings were needing to be pulled by many different people to really get me the help I needed. He tells me the hearing won't happen today but that everything in their power is being done to ensure that it will happen tomorrow.

I thank him for the update and settle into the fact that I will be staying there for the rest of the day and one more night, which seems like a much longer time than it really is. I thank him immensely for coming all this way by himself to support me and give me these supplies I really need before bidding farewell and returning to the group to give thanks and eat lunch - feeling grateful to have something to contribute this time - not knowing for sure when I would see Diego again next.

Tuesday comes and once again, E disrupts our sleep early by his incessant clapping, unnecessarily loud throat-clearing and unsettling spitting…

Today seems to drag even more. Although I had two books to read now - I was also waiting in anticipation for one of the police to announce the time of my hearing...

As the day goes by my mind starts to race more. My ego begins to play tricks some what...

Is this Universe really as perfect, fair and just as I always preach that it is??! If so… why am I being left here with no sign or word of when I might be getting out??!

Did I really have the free will that I always believed I did… and if I had free will - what about freedom? Why is it so quick and so easy for a group of strangers in apparent positions of authority to snatch my freedom from me - to take hostage my own physical body - especially for carrying around a natural plant that’s now known to have many medicinal properties. But regardless of that - what about freedom and free will?! Should I not live in a world where I am free to carry that with me - wherever I go - if I choose to through my own free will?!

I ponder for hours on these subjects - truly beginning to wonder if I have everything all wrong and the Universe is in fact this cruel, cold, harsh place - which it can easily be seen to be - depending on what perspective you are choosing to take.

I realise at this moment - although I am grateful for the supplies Diego had brought me yesterday - the one thing I really needed now was a pen and some paper to begin channeling some of these thoughts out of me.

Luckily - I have that sweet hand-written note from John - and there is plenty of spare blank page to write on. Now I just needed a pen. I set the intention in my mind to have one appear and give thanks in advance of it arriving.

Later on - there's a cleaning guy that seems to have a friendship with one of the elder gentlemen in there - a man by the name of Juan Carlos who is also a saint and angel in my life, although I don't realise it at this point.

As they're talking I happen to be by the door - and I notice he's holding a pen! I ask if I can borrow it - just for 10 or 15 minutes. He looks at me suspiciously and Juan Carlos repeats my request in his mother tongue (Kaqchikel) and the cleaner reluctantly passes it through the bars to me…

YES!

Finally all this shit flying around in my mind can finally be spewed onto a piece of paper. I don’t mess around - I sit right down and begin to write.

Around 10 minutes later as I am finishing the final couple of words - the man returns and is expecting his pen back….

Below is a scan of what I wrote in those moments.

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(When I went to scan this hand-written note - although I stored it safely with the other scans that will follow - it wasn’t there. Initially there was a rush of despair and sadness, but then I remembered that everything is perfect, and for whatever reason this particular writing was obviously not supposed to be shared in its entirety).

So instead I will roughly recount what I wrote —>

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It feels so good in these moments to vent my frustration, questions and troubled thoughts onto the paper, which is certainly not a medicine that is new to me.

The night passes as usual and there’s much more I could share about who is there, the conversations we have, and other interesting stories of the goings on. But this story is already getting long and I want to keep it as best as I can to just the most essential information that ties everything together.

That night I fall asleep with continuing questions and concerns in my mind… truly wondering if everything I know to be true about life and the Universe was simply just wrong.

Wednesday comes and I spend the day once again in constant anticipation of whether I will be getting a visit to announce the time of my hearing. The guards visit regularly - doing a kind of registration check (calling out each prisoners name one by one - who must then answer ‘PRESENTE!’ - and the final question would be ‘how many are in there?', at which point we would have to confirm our total number… I start to wonder if any of the guards can actually count).

This happens regularly… sometimes in the dark of the night at some unexpected time - waking everyone up just to hear each one call ‘PRESENTE’ in order - for no apparent reason - as if someone could have escaped, or something may have changed since their last check.

I'm hoping at this point that Diego might pay me a visit again today to give me some more supplies (the most important of which I'm hoping for is a pen) and more importantly to try and give me a heads up on what’s happening - and why I still have not received any news of my hearing.

As the day goes by and it gets to lunch time, I accept that he most likely will not be showing up today.

Each day I take time to climb up onto the sink basin, which gives me enough height to hoist myself up on top of the concrete wall that borders the toilet and ’shower’ - and from crouching in that place I can access the one tiny window at the top of the room where I’m able to see the outside world. If I put my hands through the bars as far as I can, I can feel the sweet warmth of the sun’s rays on my hands, wrists and forearms. This is a luxury that I am prepared to keep climbing up and down in order to revel in.

From here - I can see the top of the Volcano 'San Pedro’ across the other side of the lake. I can then visualise San Marcos, the town and my home, and I can imagine all of my friends and family in the town doing what they can to help me out.

I can feel their love, support, concern and active thoughts around me in the air. It feels like a thick fog overhanging the whole town. Perhaps this is my own feelings of guilt and shame being projected onto the experience.

Although I can feel their energy directed at me, at times my mind still questions if they’ve actually forgotten about me - or perhaps simply accepted there is little they can do to alter my fate and so carrying on as usual...

By this point - I have pretty much totally sobered up and begin to feel the familiar feeling of clarity and natural energy returning to my mind and body as the last of the marijuana haze is fading away.

As I watch my hands waving around, reaching out through the bars, dancing around in the sun - I take note of the two tattoos that I have on each hand -

As I do, I recall an experience from last summer where a friend had seen a vision of me as a chiseled, built, strong, ‘greek-god’ version of myself whilst we were in deep conversation during a psychedelic trip together.

I look back at the tattoos and I realise that I have not always heeded these reminders - especially the ‘I Will Create’ - because since that day I hadn’t done a single thing to even try to begin to do the work I would need to do to manifest that version of myself... Even though the vision appealed to me and I know deep down that this is the version of myself I want to become.

I feel ashamed that I hadn’t even tried, almost forgetting about the experience until this very moment. Tears come to my eyes as I look at my body. It looks frail and weak - far removed from the vision that my friend had of me…

I realise in this moment that I am having another revelation - and in an instant it turns into a powerful new resolution -

"When I get out of here I am going beast-mode. I will do everything I can and commit to making this version of myself a reality. I’m in this magical place called Momentom where I could train every day to condition and strengthen my body. The Universe is holding a clear mirror for me to see what I need to see… I must have been left here for longer because I had more than one lesson to learn."

I know this is the second lesson - that I had been neglecting my body for too long and now it was time to change. I become really excited about returning to Momemtom and beginning to train. To begin to chisel away everything that is not the highest version of me and slowly sculpt the vision of myself that my friend had clearly seen in physical form 18 months previously.

Tears flow from my eyes as I excitedly and passionately promise to myself and the Universe that I will begin to pay as much attention to the growth and development of my physical body as I have always done to the expansion of my mind and my soul.

It feels good - and I can't wait to begin. I decide that now is the time - I have so much free time and not much to do so - why not begin right now.

I always wanted to learn handstands - so why not start there?

As I climb down from there after this second revelation - I'm a little hasty and I bash my ribs on the edge of the concrete wall as I lower myself down to the floor. It doesn’t really hurt at first, but my body is beginning to feel malnourished from the lack of nutrition in the food we eat each day and the continual fizzy drinks that are supplied by the family members of my inmates.

Later on in the night when I try to sleep I notice that I am actually in quite a lot of pain - making it difficult to sleep and adding to my despair and feelings of unfairness. With sensitive and sore ribs it becomes almost impossible to find a comfortable position to sleep in… and so begins what will continue for many more nights that follow - a temporary spell of insomnia….

What a terrible question to ask the Universe.

When you ask… you receive…

So make sure you are always asking the right questions.

As I am trying to sleep early that night, another new in-mate is introduced to the room around 9pm or so I guess. I don't get to know him that night as I am just trying to get comfortable while the other inmates stay up chatting and sharing stories with the new addition to the group.

However within an hour or so he beds himself down - obviously tired from whatever escapades throughout the day have lead him to be banged up - and as he does he quickly falls into a deep sleep. In doing so, the truth reveals that he is one of the worst snorers I have EVER heard in my life. Akin to the sound of a huge beast of some sort constantly being put through agonising pain. It's relentless. It never stops and when there are gaps (which felt like landing in heaven) they only last a matter of seconds before it begins again…

This is where I really curse the Universe and God and everything else in the world - this is the bitter icing on an already shitty-tasting cake.

Obviously - I don't sleep much that night. As my body aches and my mind races, my anger leads me to think murderous thoughts of shutting this horrible beast up so that I may have a slightly better chance of actually falling into sleep myself… the combination of which left little room for relaxation.

After this second revelation I feel certain that I must surely have learnt what I have been taken there to learn now. I acknowledge to the Universe that I understand everything now… and I give thanks in advance for my hearing happening the next day and for my release as I continue to toss and turn throughout the night, ribs sore and mind agitated by all the ego's thoughts of dismay and despair... wondering if tomorrow really would hold the opportunity for freedom I was so desperate for.

This morning I don't really ‘wake up’ as such at any particular time - as truth be told I didn’t sleep at all with the sound of the new savage snorer next to me all night. But breakfast begins later now since E had left two days previously.. and generally we sleep in until 8-9am sometime before we rise to clean the floor and start the day's rituals.

After having all those murderous fantasises about shutting this new, awfully loud inmate up in various violent fashions so that I might get some sleep - it soon turns out this morning that he is just as sweet and human as the rest of the ‘criminals’ that I’ve met here so far.

I arise with the same feeling of hopefulyet doubtful anticipation as to whether today will be the day that I hear any news about my audience. As per usual - the various guards keep popping up and calling out the register… My name getting closer to the top of the list now as many of those that were being called before have been released as the days had gone by, only to be replaced by other new additions that then followed my name.

They seem to do the register more than normal today. Sometimes I think it’s just because they are bored or that it's related to some other strange psychological mind-game that they like to play on their poisoners. Every time they come to do the register again, I pray that as they say my name they might suddenly announce when the audience is going to be...

When it gets to lunch time and there is still no word of a hearing - distress, dismay and despair begin to kick in again. It's been 3 days now since I last saw Diego. My ego begins to run wild once more with so many great options for creating suffering. At points - I wonder if perhaps the town has actually forgotten about me... or perhaps my situation is so bad that nobody wants to break the news to me that I am going to be in there much longer than we all expected.

My mind also begins fantasising about all the possible negative outcomes that may have happened. Perhaps the police had gone so far as to raid Momentom - demanding to search my belongings - finding other things I may not want them to find - and ransacking everybody’s suitcases before apprehending most of the crew and shutting down the whole of Posada Schumann - The well-known and respected establishment that had become host to Momentom for the first time this year…

Perhaps an intelligence agency had been called and gotten involved - and they had dug up my years of digital history and evidence that I have been involved with various materials that are known to be illegal - leading them to have a much stronger case against me and potentially putting me into a trial where I could be facing a much longer stretch in prison…

My mind is racing with all these toxic possible future fantasies. The anger, the feeling of unfairness, the questions, the doubt and all the other emotions begin to flood through my system again. It's since the previous night and into this time that I really lost my faith in the Universe.

After lunch - I realise that I definitely won’t be getting my audience today, and by the way things are going, it's looking very unlikely that I will get it tomorrow too. This means that I'm looking at facing another weekend here before having my next chance for the hearing to be announced, which would be Monday.

I decide to meditate. I consider that seeing as I am still here - The Universe must be keeping me here as I still have more to learn from this whole experience. In the meditation I ask my higher-self -

After asking that question I receive an impulse very soon after. The impulse tells me to just make the most of my time here. To accept 'what is' and to try and take advantage of having so much spare time and nothing in particular to do and certainly nowhere to be. The impulse tells me to take this space to practice my poetry and start developing some new skills…

I begin to start reciting poetry. When I get some funny looks from my inmates I assure them "don’t worry - I haven’t gone completely ‘loco’" - I’m a poet and am just practicing my poetry…

It makes them all chuckle.

As has happened before as I recite my poetry - I realise now that my higher-mind is speaking to me in the form of my own words written years previously. They are from two separate poems - and the lines that speak to me and change my perspective are as follows -

This hits home as I realise that most the time as I’d been focusing on my situation, I was wishing it was different and resisting what I was unable to change.

It suddenly became abundantly obvious to focus on the things I could change…

The next poem was about the sentiment that life is like a rollercoaster - and like rollercoasters - it’s supposed to be fun…

This whole poem gives me so muchhope and remembrance, but these particular lines especially remind me that 'this too shall pass’.

I resolve there and then to focus on changing what I can - on being productive and using my time in beneficial ways… After all if I was going to be stuck there for another whole 4 days at the MINIMUM - I might as well make the most of it.

This feels good and I'm buzzing from the new perspective. After some time reciting more poetry - I climb to the tiny top window to continue practicing from there… to see the world, to feel the sun on my forearms and as I reach out I once again visualise the town of San Marcos and the amazing community that I am missing out on there… and with tears in my eyes I begin to question the Universe once more.

"WHHHYYYYYY am I HERE????!!!! I should be OUT THERE with Momentom - GIVING MY GIFTS, GOD!!!!! I have SO MUCH to give this community. I have SO MUCH to give HUMANITY - I’m a good person with so much love in my heart - WHY….. WHYYYYY…… WHHHHYYYYYYY????!? I’ve learnt my lessons have I not?!? Why are you keeping me here still???"

Yes - I know I have love in my heart and I direct it towards making the world a better place in my own little ways. But as I sit here feeling hard done by because the Universe has chosen to put me in this place where I can actually no longer give my gifts to the world - I realise that to some degree… I have been failing to give my greatest gifts to the world to the highest degree.

It's been months and months since I've carved time out of my day to hone and perfect my craft, and an equally long time since I've written any new poetry just for the joy of writing. I haven't memorised a new piece of poetry for performance for many months either - of which I have such a selection to choose from I could be in a constant process of memorisation. I haven't made time or space to just simply practice the poems I know and ingrain them further and further into the depths of my subconscious mind and my memory for a very long time.

In fact most of the time, smoking weed and feeding into my nicotine addiction would take priority over any of that stuff. Even if I did sit down to write or recite - a joint would be rolled first to accompany me in the process. By the time I’ve done that, usually the initial inspiration and motivation has diminished somewhat anyway, making the whole thing totally counterproductive to what I am trying to achieve.

Truth be told - I was so close to squandering the incredible opportunity that Momentom has given me by letting my addiction take priority over serving the community…

Thankfully - The Universe just simply was not prepared to let me do that.

When I truly considered it - I’d already been squandering these great gifts that the Universe has given me for a long time. I made a promise years earlier to give it my very best and more, in the interest of doing my bit to make this world a better place that's more full of light and love…

The realisation brought an intense torrent of emotion through me - Mainly sadness, regret, guilt, remorse and shame.

Another rant was begging to flow out to me - a new promise to the Universe that I will carve out time each day from here on in - even if it was only 10 minutes - but that every day I would do something towards honing my craft and improving the quality of my skills. Never again would I fail to utilise these incredible gifts that I feel within me. Never again would I let my EGO’s self-sabotage mechanisms allow addiction to spiral out of control and become my main priority and concern in life.

Yes I have gifts to give - but am I really doing all that I can to give them to the world to my greatest capacity?

The answer to that question instantly brings more tears to my eyes and I vow to make a change as of this very day.

I voice out my new promise to the Universe through this tiny window - visualising San Marcos and the community there, directing the promise to them too - my family - to the lake - the elements - the Earth - To God.

I feel amazing. All of my distress and despair from the previous couple of days is dissolving away as I begin to truly see the perfection as to why I have been sent to this place. Suddenly I realise that these three revelations have lead me to three potent resolutions that will change the course of the rest of my life. My faith is beginning to be restored. I feel complete - I feel like this must surely be the final lesson that I have come here to learn.

I use this night to continue practicing more poems. I start trying to practice hand-stands - firstly in the essence of learning a new skill and secondly for the sake of beginning the strength building and conditioning I had vowed to commence since my second realisation and resolution - to become the strong, powerful version of me that exudes health, vitality and energy.

By this point - I’d had a pen snuck in by one of the inmates wife’s sisters - which took several phone calls and a couple of days to manifest - but it had happened - and so I now have the means to begin writing down more of what I was learning and feeling. That night I wrote this piece… containing a vastly different energy and vibration compared to the piece written days previously with the pen I had borrowed from the cleaner.

This night I feel so enlightened. I feel at peace. My faith has not only been restored in the Universe and it’s divine intelligence and incomprehensible level of perfection - but like new walls being built I can feel it beginning to be strengthened and fortified. I’d like to say that I sleep well this night because of all this - but due to my mind being so active - my ribs being so sore - and the snorer being so loud - I go another night without any sleep whatsoever. But tonight - I don’t care. I don’t have any more murderous thoughts of the snorer - in fact I send him love and apologies for the thoughts I’d had the previous night. I am peaceful despite my discomfort.

This morning - after we clean the floor, and in the quiet space in between that and breakfast being served - I sit down to meditate. I know I am going to be there another weekend at least. In the meditation I call out to Diego as I assume that he will definitely pay me another visit today to let me know what's going on. I am thinking that he will come to confirm what I’d already accepted - that I will be in there another weekend - and give me some supplies to help me last. By this point there is only 4 of us left in the cell now, with Juan Carlos, who had become a good friend, due to be set free this morning. This means I have less chance of being fed as well by the relatives of my remaining inmates.

Toward the end of the meditation I call in my angels and guides to swoop in and provide for me anything else that I might need to survive, thrive and really make the most of out these last few days I have here.

Within moments of coming out of this meditation - One of them magically appears.

The angel appears in the form of a new police officer that I haven’t seen before. He comes to the door to call the register - and then for the first time - out of ALL the times that these officers had come and called out that register - he asks if there is anything that he can buy any of us. I had just 25Q left (around £2.50) and I suddenly realise as he asks that yes - please - 'can you buy me some water?’. It dawns on me that I haven’t had a single sip since I was taken a week before, as the drinks that were brought in by relatives were always fizzy, sugary drinks like coca-cola. The body was crying out for real hydration. I ask him to get whatever my money can afford, which at best should have been a 2 litre bottle or two if I was lucky.

I give him what I have and we all ask for a coffee too.

When he returns just 10 minutes later - he has two fat 3-litre bottles of water, and 4 hot fresh coffees for us. He also gives me back more change than he should have.

I like this new police officer from the moment I see him appear at the door. There is something about his energy that is vastly different to the rest of the officers there. I can feel that he has a kind heart and actually cares about us - that he recognises us as humans and will actually treat us like so… After all my interactions with in excess of 15 different police officers over the past week - This is refreshing and inspiring.

We eat a nice breakfast that day that had been the left-over-full-plates that a previous and amazingly fun and funny inmate had brought us all the day before - A man called simply ‘Chico Parrrrrrrr’ (imagine the R rolling for quite some time). He is obviously well-off and must have been here before - the guards seem to know him and are willing to do whatever he wants every time he calls them over with the command ‘HOLA JEFE, ES CHICO PARRRRRRR’ (HEY BOSS IT’S CHICO PAR). He would pull wads of cash out of his pocket to give to them, and shortly after his requests would appear like magic. He’d brought everybody what could be considered a gourmet meal by the usual standards, with plates to spare, as well as having lots of whiskey snuck in orange juice bottles so that we could all get a bit drunk the day previously. Chico Parrrrr is just one of many characters I’d love to share more about but for the purpose of this story - I just wanted to briefly touch on. He was such a legend that it would feel rude to leave him out entirely.

Not long after breakfast, JC - who is one of my most bonded with inmates and another angel - the one who’s wife’s sister had snuck me in a pen - is released. He assures me he will come back later to check on me. We share our gratitude for one another - acknowledging each other as ‘Brocolis' and I congratulate him on his freedom, wishing him luck and love along his onward journey.

(This group of inmates are the 4th independent group of Guatemalans that have intuitively and affectionately nicknamed me ‘Brocoli’ over the years - a nickname that I own with pride, appreciation and fondness of their common sense of humour. However before he leaves, JC informs me that Brocoli is not only apt because of my hair-style, but also because ‘Brocoli’ is an expression unique to Guatemalan slang meaning ‘Bro’ / ‘Brother’. Now I am home the Guatemalans I am living and working with are all having fun calling each other Brocolis all the time).

Then there is just 3 of us. One of the others has come down with some sort of stomach bug, and is in the groaning stage of feeling terrible, throwing up and needing to be by the toilet constantly. This is a good start to the remainder of my time here 😉

Thankfully - within an hour of JC leaving - The angel officer appears back at the door. He calls my name and tells me that at 1pm - we will leave to Santiago for my hearing that will take place later that day….

I don’t want to get my hopes up. After seeing all the weird mind games and the way that the feeling of daily uncertainty slowly begins to chip away at your patience and your faith the longer you stay in there - I know that actually I may not be having my hearing today at all. That might be the last I hear of it and I could be left all day yet again wondering why and feeling disappointed…

Yet, I still can’t stop the excitement running through my veins none the less - deep down I know that my prayer has already been answered even before it had been uttered - and that this angel is going to do whatever he can to ensure that I gain my freedom back this very day…

I dance around, clapping excitedly and beginning to feel the initial impulses of intense emotion - wicked waves of immense gratitude for what would go on to be one of the most emotional departures and arrivals of my life.

Low and behold… it gets to 1pm and almost to the dot, the angel turns up at the door and tells me we have five minutes before we go…

I’d already packed everything up in anticipation, and I taken a shower to prepare myself to look and smell as good as I can in front of the judge I will be facing in just a matter of minutes now.

He opens the door and for the first time in 7 days… it's for me to go out of it. He cuffs me up again as he’s legally obliged to do. I remember just how much I despise the feeling of being in these things… bound and restricted… suddenly unable to use your arms or hands properly… It’s a vile and violating feeling.

I really feel the good energy coming from this man. In comparison to every other police officer I've interacted with so far, this guy seems genuinely human. He doesn’t laugh at me or make jokes at me, or look at me like I am some sort of dirty rodent. It’s easy to see that he wants to help me. There’s a feeling of familiarity there…

All I know is he appeared in my life within minutes of consciously calling in my angels…

We take a ride in the police pickup to Panajachel - The ‘capital city’ of the lake. The views are stunning. I feel like I am seeing them through new eyes. New eyes with a whole new perspective on what it means to be free in this glorious world.

When we arrive in Panajachel, we get out the pickup to get a private boat to Santiago - another town on the opposite side of the lake to San Marcos - which is where the judge awaits me in the court to decide my fate.

Whilst waiting on the dock, the angel begins taking photos of me on his phone. We are laughing as I tell him he has to send them to me before we part ways. We swap phone numbers there and then.

We board the boat and we’re in for a bumpy ride. Around this time in the afternoon the water can often get quite choppy, as it had today. When we get going, the angel invites me to stand up with him at the front of the boat to enjoy the view and the air rushing through my hair. I of course don’t take much persuasion. It’s a true thrill when standing up at the front of the boat - akin to surfing the waves at super high speed - as you rise high into the air whilst the back of the boat is dragged down into the water by the powerful engine. It almost feels like you are flying. It added a new layer of depth to my feeling of liberty and approaching salvation.

But it's a rough ride, and it's much harder to enjoy fully with the cuffs on. At this point I notice the angel has his phone out again and seems to be taking a video this time. What a joker. He asks if I can swim well… to which I answer ‘yes… but not with these things on!'

Shortly after… he decides to break the law and release me from the shackles. I’m seriously SO grateful. The rest of the ride was as fun and exhilarating as it was supposed to be…

We arrive in Santiago and take a Tuk-Tuk to the court. We get there and my other angel Diego is waiting already. He seems just as pleased and relieved to see me as I am to see him. We both smile with an underlying knowing that we’d almost reached the end of it all. My lawyer Francisco is also there and we are all promptly shown to the hearing room.

I know what I want to say, but am not sure I will understand everything that might be said. Thankfully Francisco prompted me quietly as and when I was expected to speak in between whatever obligatory script the judge was reading out to the audience.

They go through all the technicalities and the nature of the charge against me before I am given the opportunity to speak my piece. I feel as though I speak fluently in these moments and firstly explain my deep sorrow and regret for my actions. I explain just how much I love Guatemala, it’s people, land and it's culture - and how grateful I am to be there for the second time. I tell them the truth that I had an addiction to marijuana, that I had not meant to disrespect their laws, and had not realised how severe a crime it was in their country (which really, I didn’t). I also tell them I am grateful because I was now not only not going to smoke myself anymore, but also help them and tell all others in town that they should respect the Guatemalan laws whilst they are in their country… I assure them that I am on their side...

For although I don’t agree with the severity of the law in the slightest - it is that way for a reason. Two separate police officers had both told me the same thing during my first day at the station… That smoking marijuana is really dangerous and makes people drown themselves in the lake...

Everything I say to them is true. I am truly sorry. I am truly grateful. I am truly going to advise others to respect their laws. I tell them that I give money to people on the street and help the local community in ways that I can, which I do - every single day. I can feel that they all know in their hearts that I’m a good person who did something stupid and am truly sorry for it - and as they had been so keen on teaching me - I’d really learnt my lesson.

In fact - I'd learnt three of them.

So the hearing goes on and after negotiation Francisco gets the initial fine down from 4,000Q (around £400) to 1000Q. This is given as a donation to a chosen charity, which happens to be a woman collective here on the lake. This warms my heart and I’m happy to be able to have this excuse to donate some money to them through the form of this fine for my crime.

It’s happened… I’m free!!! We get the papers for the fine and my confirmation of release - and the angel tells me he’s legally obliged to keep me cuffed all the way back to Sololá - but that he’s not going to do that.

I walk out with my three angels all around me…

I feel protected, provided for, and guided.

The emotion is starting to flow now, starting with intense relief with a touch of disbelief.

We take a Tuk-Tuk to a cashpoint so I can pay the fine and transport costs to Francisco there and then, and then we proceed back to the dock where our private boat is still waiting for us - This time we have two of the angels together as we cruise back over the now totally calm lake waters back towards Panajachel.

I have to take my own time up front - tears beginning to flow freely as I give thanks endlessly for my freedom and to the Godly Universe for sending my angels and infact ensuring my angels were always near the whole time. I am beginning to click and see the perfection of it all more and more clearly. It’s hilarious and breath-taking and incomprehensible and overwhelming and daunting all at the same time.

I begin to detect the heavier emotions underlying this wave - the shame and guilt, regret and embarrassment that my ego feels for putting the whole community and town under so much stress and pressure with my inconsiderate actions - Knowing too beneath it all that everything is perfectly as it should be, and that nothing whatsoever could ever possibly be out of place…

We get to Panajachel and the police pickup isn’t there to pickup. Looks like a chicken bus back to the prison. We stop on the way at a shop and I offer them both whatever they want. I’m in instant reciprocation mode, willing to take every opportunity I can to begin paying these two angels back in whatever small ways I can think of.

When we get to the bus I ask if we have time to get a coffee. Neither of them seem in a rush so we sit and I buy us some coffee and snacks. I feel so alive right now. More connected to and aware of the importance of really feeling and living every moment as though it’s the last.

Just as we go to board the bus, Diego realises he’s left his book on the boat, so we split and he waits for me at the dock whilst we take the next bus back to the prison. I’d forgotten what it's like being on a busy Guatemalan chicken bus. Frickin' insane is probably the most fitting two words. It was chaos… but I loved it. This is Guatemala. It’s these details that make it so special. Those that know - know. Those that don’t… You simply have to go.

We arrive back and I collect my things from the cell as I say goodbye to the last two remaining Brocolis still in the cell. I wish them both luck and love and quickly get out of there. After seeing so many pass through and have their time to be the one walking through the door it was so refreshing to finally be that one.

The angel called me a taxi back to Panajachel to meet Diego by the boat and take the last leg of the journey home - a 45 minute boat ride back to San Marcos.

I give the angel sincere thanks and tell him he has a huge heart. I tell him I will write him a nice message for his newly-wed wife to read, expressing what a wonderful man she had just married. We’d already swapped numbers and I remind him to send me all the photos and videos he’d taken earlier.

When I reunite with Diego he was chilling whilst he waited with a beer. We decide to stay for a bit before jumping on a boat. I buy him another beer and choose a glass of wine myself…

Still in a state of slight delusion from the whole experience, and especially the lack of sleep during the previous nights, there’s several times where I wonder if it had all been a dream - or if in fact this very moment was a dream - and I was actually still asleep in prison.

Thankfully - it was real. I was finally out. 7 days doesn’t sound like that long a time, but they were the longest 7 days of my life…

For during those 7 days I had those 3 revelations, which turned into 3 powerful resolutions that I know will change the course of the rest of my life.

On the boat ride back to Panajachel the first real tidal wave of emotion hits me. As the boat hits full speed and the roar of the engine interweaves with the heavy displacement of lake waters rising and falling - I gaze through the window at the starlit lake and feel in true awe at the precise perfection of it all. Diego points my attention to one part of the sky and tells me to watch… and above San Pedro Volcano, intricate electricity dances through the sky. This is the conversation. As I express my immense gratitude not only through the energy of my thoughts and intentions, but physically through the floods of tears that begin to burst through, the lightning responds to my promises and resolutions. I vow that I will never ever ever EVER lose my faith in the complete perfection of this Universe EVER again. Even at the times when I don’t understand it. Even at the times when it’s really painful and confusing. ESPECIALLY at these times I will remain faithful in the perfection and thankful for whatever learning opportunity each experience presents to me.

Whether I can guarantee that for sure, I don’t know… But I promise to try my very best no matter what happens throughout life.

The torrent of tears pretty much continues until we get home. I am so excited to see everyone but also deep down aware of the guilt I was carrying in with me for causing such a fiasco for everyone. Although I can’t wait to see everybody, a part of me was ashamed walking back in there. That part being my ego - the part that loves all that suffering bullshit.

It was overwhelming to go back, arriving just before dinner, and to go through the whole ‘gasp’ moment as one by one the members of the Momentom community got the visual evidence that I’d finally made it back home.

Diego had told me on the way home how much everyone had been doing for me every day whilst I was away - late night phone calls and letters to lawyers and police. Large chunks of money being paid out in order to ensure I had the best help I could get to minimise what could have been a 4 or more week process - throughout which I would have been in that same cell the whole time.

Everybody in the whole town it seems was praying for me, coming together to figure out plans of action and working as one to save me.

Writing this now my whole body tingles as I feel that feeling of unconditional love and support that this incredible community offers. Now more than ever I can feel this strong contrast between wanting to fully accept and appreciate the love, and feeling guilty and undeserving of a love of such immense power and magnitude.

The community that you find here in San Marcos La Laguna is truly something spectacular. To say that I was supported whilst I was away would be understatement of the millenium. It goes way beyond that. It is more a feeling of complete unity than community. Like everyone there just gets the whole fact that ‘we are all one’ and so treats each other like so. It’s a perfect example of how life CAN be once we begin to embrace our oneness and come together as one loving family - as one united collective consciousness.

As the days go by I go from extreme euphoria to random releases - vibrating on another level with gratitude one minute and crying with pain and shame the next. Most the times these tears just broke through with force at totally unexpected times and for specific reasons I wasn’t able to pinpoint. I suppose it’s all just a natural part of the processing for me. To be with Momentom - in a place where tears don’t have to be hidden or covered by smiles - I am so grateful I am able to just let them flow through as and when they come, instead of storing the pain within me to be processed at a later date.

I develop a temporary insomnia over these days since returning, unable to rest through the racing of my mind and the tenderness of my ribs. I know both were necessary to force me up in the early hours of the morning to write this story. Between 4 - 6:30am is the only real time you’ll ever get some quiet alone time when living in a community of almost 40 people. This was the Universe’s way of making sure I found the right space and time to allow myself to recount this all piece by piece and create something I could share for the benefit of myself and all others too.

So I hope if you are still reading this - you’ve remembered a lot here too. The bottom take away is that The Universe Makes No Mistakes. To think that somehow the immense intelligence that is behind all of this can somehow 'get things wrong' from time to time is kinda crazy. To think that in our little limited human experience that we’ve chosen we can have the capacity to comprehend, and even know better than, this supreme life force that guides and governs all of existence - well that’s even more crazy.

I know now I had to go through this in order to learn these three powerful lessons through this experience. I had to go through it to get to my next level of patience. I went through it so that I could reach my next highest levels of faith. Because although at times I’d go so far as to say I was so wrapped up in my ego's suffering that I lost my faith fully… I can also now say that through tearing it down, I’ve been able to build it back up stronger, more solid and stable than it ever has been before.

The Universe works in so many miraculous and marvellous ways. The more you believe that - the easier it is to see it. We chose this human experience because of the realnessof it. Because of the infinity of possible experiences and feelings we are open to…

We are here learning and evolving. Growing spiritually and remembering the truth of what we really are...

Every single experience is an opportunity for growth. An opportunity to continue that process of learning and evolving - enabling us to consistently step into higher and higher expressions of our truest divine self.

Sometimes it’s easy to recognise that... and sometimes it's not.

It's in these times that we get our true tests of faith - and often the most difficult times in our life offer us our most powerful lessons that define our future and who we then choose to become.

So this was never going to be a short story… even with all the extra details missing that I would love to share… it's taken a long time to translate it into this succession of words that outlines the crucial parts of it.

But I know this is important work I had to do. It’s part of the reason that I was the one out of everyone that was caught that night. Everyone here smokes, and everyone here had become complacent… this could have happened to anyone. The police wanted to make an example of someone - and the Universe made sure it was someone that would turn the horrific into the terrific - the horrendous into the tremendous - and share the story openly knowing that there is much of great benefit to all written within these words.

It had to pick someone that would not be scared of returning to San Marcos, but instead would return elevated and inspired, and determined to take every opportunity to warn all others of the importance of playing by the rules and respecting the local laws while we are lucky enough to be in this magical country called Guatemala - regardless of whether we agree with those laws or not. Out of respect and gratitude for simply being welcomed here - we should abide by the laws.

It’s shown us all in San Marcos here the power of love within community, and the strength we have to come together and overcome any difficulty that this world may choose to present to us at any given moment.

It’s proven to me that everything is always perfect, even when it seems so clear that it’s not.

This life is a rollercoaster… and we are supposed to be enjoying it. It’s supposed to be fun. It’s only terrifying when we forget the fact that actually - everything will be alright in the end… no matter what awaits us around each bend…

A few days after returning home I am due to head to Franciscos office in San Pedro, one of the other main towns on the lake. I have a bill to settle. They say you can’t put a price on freedom - and I agree. But in this case, my freedom cost me in the region of 9000Q (£900), 7000Q of which was for Francisco’s services. As I go to pay the remaining 3500Q (Momentum had already fronted the initial 50% deposit for me) Francisco seems genuinely pleased to see me… and not just because I have a big wad of cash in my pocket for him 😉

As the conversation continues he tells me something special. He’s not quite sure how this occurred - and credits it to the Divine - but he explains that somehow I have absolutely no criminal record here in Guatemala… a service that is buyable here in Guatemala, but would normally cost around 30,000Q (£3,000) to make happen. He tells me if anyone ever asks if I have been in trouble with the police here at any time, I can tell them no, and that answer will be inline with what they see on their records…

Obviously the Universe knows that I have many more reasons to continue returning to this lake throughout my life, and wants to make sure I have no trouble doing so.

I give the sincerest of thanks to dear Francisco for his continued efforts throughout the week I was away. I know he is yet another angel in my life that was surrounding me the whole time.

As I leave the office, I laugh loudly once more at the divine perfection of it all, and direct my gratitude up to the sky, down below to the Earth, and commend the Universe once again for it’s endless displays of magic and miracles that it treats us to each and every day…

I hope you have enjoyed my story… and always remember -

With Love Always

This link will take you to a video that the angel took of me on my day of freedom. I’ll never forget the love in this man’s heart and his much appreciated sense of humour that brought light into what had been a seemingly dark situation. He sent this video on WhatsApp along with a message of apology that he hadn’t taken my handcuffs off sooner…

I assured him that he had absolutely NOTHING to be sorry for… and I had so much to be thankful for.

Gracias por siempre mi hermano ❤️