My life to yours, and yours, and yours

13 06 2010

The time vortex that, it seems, is Costa Rica, has swept over me again, as I find myself entering the last week of my time (this time around) in Costa Rica.  I have officially departed from Mastatal, onward to the big city, where I immediately got lost, sore, and tired.  As if I could ever have room within my heart to appreciate Masatal even more than I already do.  Or so I thought until this morning, when I found myself already longing for the easy, clean, natural, supportive atmosphere I have so recently surfaced from.  I did manage to make the switch in my mind though:  Surfacing from the easy, clean, supportive atmosphere is okay, because I will soon be ready to plunge back into the one waiting for me at home.

My last day in Mastatal was carried out masterfully.  Between the localvore harvest and meal (carmelized squash stratta, various garden greens in kombucha vinegar dressing, mango-lime-coconut-mint salad, and freshly squeezed starfruit juice) I cooked with Carolyn and adorable two year old Soledad, the World Cup games watched with an earnest mix of Ranch visitors and local Ticos at Kattia’s house, the beautiful sunny morning and gently rainy afternoon, and the final conversations and circle time that left me brimming with good energy, I had no short supply of wonderful memories to coast on as I rode the rocky bus out of the Puriscal region early this morning.  Looking out the window and taking a breath, I managed to identify the reason for the big smile spreading across my face.  Someone told me that to be loved is to feel the sun from both sides, which I guess is how I felt this morning.  I kept thinking about the love and support that surround me at home, and the amazing people there that have shaped me and will continue to shape me my whole life, while simultaneously celebrating the building of a new place within my life that is there for me too.  I guess it’s kind of like, if I were playing that game of trust where you close your eyes and spread out your arms and let yourself fall backward into (fingers crossed) a friend’s waiting arms, someone would definitely be there to catch me.  Eyes closed.  Plunging in.

I was reminded of theories of how people solve problems in their dreams when, the night before last, I spontaneously woke up at 2:00 am, wrote a poem, and went right back to sleep.  I had been struggling to try to come up with a message to leave with the Rancho that would adequately express the imprint that the past month, and the people that graced it, will leave within me.  The poem is about circle time, the moment that we all take to breath before digging into a delicious supper each night.  Holding hands, lights off except for the candles, anyone can share anything, or nothing.  Usually it ends up being a time of thank yous spoken, for the days work, for a listening ear, or for a really great joke.  The time it gives you to wind down really ends up being a time to appreciate the day you’ve just had, to laugh, de-stress, and be grateful.  It is beautiful, and is one of the spaces that has taught me the most in the past month.

With much to think about in the next week, I am departing from San Jose (another story for another time) in the morning for an obscure-but-definitely-there-island on the central Caribbean coast to get a taste of working with endangered turtles, before slipping back into Canada the following week, before you, or I, even know it.  With no means of outside communication, it should be a great time to look inward and onward and figure out just what on Earth it is that this stunning country has taught me. Looking forward to sharing pictures and stories from the comfy quarters of my home space.

Hasta luego, Mastatal, or as my friend Carolyn would say, hasta la pasta!

Circle Time

Palms to palms

My prints to yours,

And yours, and yours, and yours, and yours.

Lock souls instead of eyes,

Lock time, stop.

Stop thinking locked thoughts,

Stop stopping.

Lock into step, in rhythm

My breath to yours,

And yours, and yours, and yours, and yours.

Lock hearts, minds,

But not locked into anything, really…


Possibility seeps between us

And weaves in stitch our fingers,

My life to yours,

And yours, and yours, and yours, and yours.




One response

13 06 2010
Lindsay Millar

so much joy in this post. so much love. 🙂 I am glad you have found your peace, the world is going to look very different to you now and this is a wonderful thing. I am so excited to hear your stories! buen viaje en la mañana! amor y besos y abrazos!

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