Visit to Our Motherland

Reflections from Jon Ferrer, Wisdom Sun practitioner and Wisdom Council member 

This February I got to travel to the Philippines with JoAnn, my wife, and Opal, our two-year old daughter. Every day had events, travel, or both. I went into this trip with the intention to surrender control and allow things around me to take their course. Whatever I felt needed to happen, happened, and thankfully, there were tiny pockets of solitude and relaxation sprinkled throughout. Most of the time, we were simply looking after Opal and her needs, which was a joy—especially seeing her visit our Motherland for the first time, much earlier than JoAnn and I got to in our lifetimes.

We had the opportunity to visit the places where JoAnn’s parents are from, as well as where my grandfather was from, which felt so meaningful. This was my second visit to the Philippines, and this time, I felt a deeper connection to the land and the people rather than just being a visitor on vacation. Everywhere there were coconuts, bananas, and mangoes—this bounty and generosity of the land was a good metaphor for the people there, who are so hospitable and giving. It was refreshing to be surrounded by people who looked like me or share a similar history. A huge contrast to the current social landscape here in the US, which feels so isolating. That’s something I really connected with and deeply miss about leaving the Philippines.

We visited a beautiful island called Bohol, where, for a few mornings, I practiced Wisdom Body Lujong barefoot for the first time—facing east, on the same patch of grass each day. One day, after heavy rainfall, I saw a huge earthworm emerge from the ground, perhaps sensing the movement on the surface. It was about four times as long as the earthworms that I am accustomed to seeing here, and thicker. Initially I was startled and took a closer look. Once my fascination subsided, I let it be and moved over slightly as if to welcome a new buddy allowing me to share this patch of earth with them, trying my best not to disturb them. 

Despite the pull of a large group and sometimes feeling overstimulated, I made time to withdraw with Opal to connect with nature—observing animals, insects, butterflies, fruit trees, and flowers. It was incredible to witness the biodiversity and lush landscapes of the Philippines. I remembered that Rose referred to Costa Rica as "Mother Costa Rica" in her post on their travels, and I found myself doing the same with "Mother Philippines."

I’m in the Ngondro practice group and tried to read the material that we are working with as much as I could—on long drives, during the plane ride, and every morning—which really helped ground me during moments when I felt disconnected from my surroundings. I took a hands-off approach to planning or scheduling activities and the most adventurous experiences for me on this trip were mostly internal. I had vivid dreams, both in the dream state and in reality. Some situations were so blissful, while others were so absurdly frustrating that I made it a practice to ask myself, “Is this a dream?”

During the last few days of our trip, we stayed in a very developed, modern part of Manila, in a room high above the city, overlooking slums sandwiched between a wealthy district and towering skyscrapers. This was after spending so much time in a rural area where electricity was scarce and people lived hand-to-mouth—yet I never felt a sense of desperation from anyone. Then, within the same day, we were in a city that looked even more affluent than San Francisco. It was jarring—just walking through an air-conditioned mall with those memories still fresh in my mind. Every night before bed, I would watch the city below and recall our Mother Wisdom retreat, and ask myself—How is Mother Wisdom found in a place like this? Some days, I would have an answer. Others, none. 

Now that I’ve returned, everything still feels very much like a dream—one moment, parked in a plane seat for so many hours, and the next, suddenly back home, having to settle down again and reset after acclimating to an entirely different world. Things feel more relaxed in that dream-like sense despite how chaotic resettling in San Francisco has been.

During the trip, I often thought about Wisdom Sun and the familiar faces from our online gatherings. With JoAnn, Opal, and I caught up in so much active time with extended family there wasn't much opportunity to share the beauty and profundity I was experiencing internally, and that could have felt isolating. Yet, knowing I was connected to the Wisdom Sun community through these practices made it feel as though I was carrying another presence of home with me.

I recall a line from Rose’s writing: “…the good fortune to have joined a true wisdom lineage. This situation is hard to attain and easily lost.” I can still picture myself in the middle of a packed van, reading those same words while we traveled to our next destination—Opal and JoAnn asleep beside me—feeling a deep kinship with both the spirit world and the physical world around me.