The Language of Smiles and Eyes and Laughter

Today began like most, with coffee and conversation on the little deck outside our kitchen door. We perused the property we are staying on for the perfect furniture to make our little covered corner a perfect sanctuary and found a few dusty leather and wooden handmade rocking chairs two small foot stools and a round cast iron table. I always travel with table cloths, extra linens and sarongs to drape over everything and after cleaning the furniture and covering the chairs with soft bright sarongs and the table with a happy green printed cloth our cozy corner was complete. Our dog, Deva, sits on a cushion on the ground between our rockers surveying the grounds for errant squirrels and pozotes, which look like a cross between an anteater and a raccoon, but are vicious with a big sharp hooked claw on the end of their feet. I have to be careful and make sure Deva doesn't chase down the wildlife. He's only 7lbs but he thinks he's all man.

Today we had every intention of going to yoga together, but ended up walking the beach, coming home and making love then hopping on the quad to run a few errands before coming back and going back to the beach. The tide was out and the tide pools were full of crystal clear water that reached my chin in some places while standing on my toes. The pools between the rocks are narrow and the bottom is soft sand. Today I could follow the channels between the rocks almost all the way to the mouth of the sea. I soaked for hours and played with three young girls who clung to me with complete trust sharing with me their beautiful smiles and happy brown eyes as I played with them in the water. We sang songs and floated together and when big sister Luna came to take them back to shore we had a group hug. Suspended in these prehistoric pools today I had the realization that this is indeed one of my most favorite places in the world; in that water, between those rocks, on that beach, under that sky.

Its strange to think that I'm feeling like I haven't found a rhythm here yet. I'm finding how different it is to be here with a partner and as lovely as that can be, I also have all these "ways" of being and doing here when I'm alone, which has been my experience here. So, I'm dropping the past...at least trying to. While I'm at it, can I drop my expectations too? Expectations about how much yoga I should be doing, how much time I should spend writing, playing music...why do I do that to myself?

I have no idea how things are going to unfold here  I own nothing, I have no commitments to anything except playing music here in the jungle twice a week for the next month and a tentative hold on a hilltop casa until April. To release any anxiety that arises when my mind starts asking, "what are you doing with your life?" I started thinking about everything that I am doing as a prayer.

"Hear me, I am offering my song here and my heart with the utmost trust that this is where I should be. As I move through my days here, guide me, show me where I can be of service... show me the way. Thank you."

I'm pretty sure today that meant holding the sweetest brown bodied girls in a crystal clear tide pool where the language of smiles and eyes and laughter prevailed.

Free

I have been taking classes at the Harmony Healing Center since my arrival with the exception of one transcendent Kundalini class last weekend at the Bodhi Tree Yoga Resort. Dan came with me and we walked the beach for an hour from our nest in Pelada to the brand new studio in this stunning resort. As soon as we settled on our mats the rain began pouring down on the jungle over palms and trees and all the sounds around us became hushed as we awakened our life force through breathing and movement under the wise guidance of Shivanter.

Most of the time I am trekking off to class by myself  happily lost in the magic of my surroundings knowing Dan is just fine. I bought a five class pass at Harmony Healing Center to get me started, basically because they offer some nice easy flow classes and also because its closest to my home. My first class was a "Honey Flow" class taught by Ashley and five minutes in I had a new teacher. Ashley teaches from her heart and breath and depth of her being. She is hands on and her knowledge comes from her bones...a Nosara Goddess.

I always give myself extra time when I am walking so I can rinse off the sand from the beach, change and cool down, but this day I had almost 45 minutes to spare because I had the class time wrong. I settled on my mat and let my mind run. My body was feeling tense and achy from not sleeping well on the ancient mattress in our casa and as I lay there I clearly heard my mind say, " I am always in pain." As soon as I said that tears sprang to my eyes. Then I mentally stopped myself and said (internally) "Really? How are you feeling right now?"

With that my tears stopped instantaneously and I began a scan of how I really was feeling in my body and guess what? Aside from some tightness along the back of my left side, I felt pretty good. After five minutes of sending some deep breath into that area, I realized that at that moment there was no pain in my body. What I was telling myself subconsciously was just not true. I am not always in pain, but apparently it is a story that I have been telling for a long time.

When I focus on the facts of what is happening in the moment and nothing more, I become free. Free of my stories, free of other peoples stories about me, free of my projections into the past and future, free.

Free.

Gratitude and Self Sufficiency

Even though I am in a country that doesn't recognize our American tradition of Thanksgiving, it seems no matter where I am or what I am doing, on Thanksgiving my gratitude practice becomes an endless mantra. All day long my focus is turned toward gratitude...thinking of all of my people, my ancestors, my surroundings... and then look, I have hands that can wash these dishes, a bed I can take a nap on, a phone to text my mama and peanut butter.

On this Thanksgiving after talking with my beautiful daughter in Europe and sharing messages with my son in Brooklyn, after holding down the home front while Dan was out in the jungle taking care of business, after playing to a beautiful crowd of people enjoying a home cooked feast at Kaya Sol where I met people from my home town...at the end of it all I was struck with an overwhelming sense of gratitude for self sufficiency.

I have watched in amazement as Dan has navigated this terrain since our arrival, identifying our needs and going after fulfilling them with a vengeance. We now have our own small sound system that will enable us to work anywhere and we can work anywhere because he also found us a used quad, a four-wheeled mode of transportation favored by locals, to get us from point A to B, all in nine days. He has hopped into cars with strangers and walked the dusty roads on his quest for these things that will hopefully bring us closer to a point of self sufficiency during our time here in the jungle.

Tonight we traveled to and from our gig riding our newly acquired vehicle, me sitting snug behind him with my arms wrapped tight around his waist my backpack on my back full of equipment and my guitar and his drums tied to the front and back racks with ropes and bungees. The way home was guided by the moon and the summer breeze cooled our faces. I leaned forward and spoke in his ear, "we can go anywhere with this."

Sinking In

As I sink into the familiar rhythms that guide, inform and inspire my daily life here, I am aware of how different it is to be returning to a place that feels so much like home to me with someone else. You see, for the past five years I have been traveling to this lush jungle village on the Guanacaste peninsula almost every year for months at a time, alone experiencing moments completely unburdened. Doing anything by yourself that is without fear and motivated by heart and passion, curiosity and love is like giving yourself a precious gift that can never be taken from you. Some of the most profound and joyous moments of my life happened here with only nature as my witness. "The joy of love is possible only if you have known the joy of being alone, because only then do you have something to share."

This time I am sharing my journey with my partner of 32 years, Dan and the newest love in my life, my fearless 8 lb. rescue dog, Deva Om. What I notice most for me is that this new experience in this most familiar place only requires one thing, more breath. Now I am not the only one to consider when making choices about the days journey...my rhythm and time need to make space for someone else's rhythm and time and the best way I know to make space for anything is to breathe.

We've fallen into a nice daily flow. Dan usually wakes before me as the howler monkey's beckon, Coffee is on when I roll out of bed and I wrap a sarong around me to join him on our little covered porch outside the kitchen door where there is a small table and two chairs. Deva sits on a cushion on the tile floor and we drink coffee quietly gazing at the endless varieties of flora and fauna surrounding us. Sometimes we each pull a few tarot cards that spark conversations about deeper things...longings, visions, questions.

This is the first time Dan has taken this much time and space for himself. I half jokingly told several friends before coming here that this trip would either make us or break us. I can already sense how important this is, for both of us. 

I Choose Heaven

I am back in what I call my spiritual home, Nosara, Costa Rica. There is always a dance of letting everything go as I journey from my home in Eastern North Carolina to the outer reaches of this lush beach side jungle in Playa Pelada. Not just the daily routines filled with creature comforts and instant gratification, but the letting go of accumulated stress from working too much too fast, from making choices that may not serve my body and busy mind... from any preconceived ideas about anything.
The ride from the airport in Liberia became my initiation. I had thought that I had arranged a private van to transport me, my partner Dan, my dog Deva Om and all the accouterments one needs to live and play music and write in the jungle for an undetermined amount of time. Basically, a lot of stuff! Lo and behold, our chariot was in fact a shared one with four fellow travelers including one woman journeying with a household of belongings. She was moving here permanently from Canada and altogether our belongings filled the entire van before we even tried to squeeze in. The driver was visibly stressed while tying to communicate his strategy to us which we didn't really understand and then he jumped in the van and drove away. With all our "stuff." He eventually returned and we found a shelter to park under because it was pouring rain so he and Dan could load all of the luggage and boxes onto the top of the van and then secure the mess with one tarp and one rope. It looked like a Dr. Seuss-mobile tilting ever so precariously like the huge reindeer antlers on the tiny head of the Grinch's dog. We had to stop several times to adjust the rope and tarp, but everything was getting wet even though we were only driving 40 miles an hour. I was really feeling for the driver. None of this was his fault, it was clearly a miscommunication. At a certain point early on it seemed like all of us decided wordlessly to become joyful; in our interactions with each other, with the taking in of the natural beauty unfolding before us; the roosters, children on bicycles, fruit stands, dirt roads and potholes, skinny bridges spanning rolling brown rivers, mountains and palm trees. We connected, laughed and eventually made it safely to our destinations... a bit weary and wet.

The days since my arrival have been filled with myriad choices on how I can perceive my reality. All the things that can happen here and do, can really trip you up; forgetting my umbrella on my walk to my first gig and getting drenched in the rain and having to play the show soaking wet, slipping on the jungle path and falling into a pit of mud, fire ants and funky smells outside my bedroom window and that just scratches the surface.

It fills me with gratitude to know that it is my choice at how I see and experience what is happening to me here. I can choose heaven or hell and the doors to each are not far from each other and reside inside me. I choose heaven.

Control, Turning In and Rebel

My friend Jane has been craving Coq Au Vin so we made the trek into town on a mission to find chicken. Nosara proper is about eight miles away from the beach, but it takes almost thirty minutes to get there because of the road conditions. The main form of transportation seems to be motor bike and it's not unusual to see a family of four including little children, sometimes babies, crowded onto one as they navigate the treacherous terrain. Jane has an SUV that complains audibly as we dip in and out of craters and enormous puddles. Life expectancy for vehicles here is short.

The Super Nosara is a huge store that is housed in what looks like a gigantic tin shed with concrete brick walls. It has every single thing you could want and at the best prices. It's dimly lit and laid out in no particular order with nary a sign telling you where anything is so I wander down each and every isle like its a new discovery and it is.

Everything has to be improvised in a jungle kitchen. Invariably you are not going to have the perfect pan, the required spices or the correct oven temperature. I eventually figured it all out and before long savory aromas were wafting from the cocina. While we waited Jane brought out some Tarot cards and after shuffling, cutting and concentrating on picking the perfect cards I drew three that were supposed to signify my past, present and future. I picked Control, Turning In and Rebel.

I was happy to see that control was in my past! I know there is a time and place for control, but to strive for an ordered and perfect life leaves no room for spontaneity and more importantly to me, vulnerability. I learned to let go of control the hard way and maybe the way most of us do, by having something happen to us in our lives that we did not plan and had no control over. When you hold on so tight to your beliefs, or people, or things, its so difficult and painful when change occurs.

When I checked on our dinner after almost two hours, things were not moving as planned! The vegetables were still hard and the chicken was tight on the bone. I realized that the shallow aluminum pan that we were using was not working, so I pulled the entire dish out of the oven, juices spilling everywhere, making a huge mess on the floor and in the brand new oven. Determined to remain positive, a smaller pan was located, the meal divided into more manageable portions, put back in the oven, mess cleaned and disaster averted!

Back to the cards, I looked at what was to signify my present state-Turning In. Ultimately turning in, in this sense means taking a distance from the mind, just watching. Pulling this card means one is ready to do that and says that all the running and scrambling towards fulfillment and desire only creates frustration and misery. "All journeys are outward because we are already in."

I think this idea of turning in is really resonating with me here this time around. My last visit to Nosara I spent two months searching, questioning, thinking and running toward what I can now see was an escape from my life. Almost three years later I'm a lot less anxious about having everything figured out. My life is my life, a beautiful mess of family, love, music, friends, nature, knowing and not.

Looking at my future card, The Rebel, brings an immediate smile. I don't even have to read it, I just want to be it! The card says the rebel is the master of his/her own destiny, possessing the light of hard earned truths, a messenger between earth and sky, an upsetting force. One who lives their own truth.

As I bite into a delicious morsel of perfectly cooked chicken, dipping a piece of crusty bread into the pan juices, a glass of crispy white wine at the ready, I feel myself grateful and completely present at the table, that is until my mind goes back to thinking about my future self.........

Can I get a rebel yell?

Props are Friends

There is a Dengue Fever outbreak here. Yesterday I woke up with a headache and sore throat and after looking up "symptoms/onset" I had a mini panic attack. What if I contract Dengue here? Who would take care of me?

The moment was fleeting and my mind traveled back in time to when I had just undergone my first hip replacement surgery and at the same time was navigating an enormous personal crisis. One day, just days out of the hospital with no family to be found and having needs that needed tending, I called a cab, crutched to the street and checked into a 5 star hotel.

I was in so much pain, physical and emotional that I couldn’t even call a friend. I didn’t trust anyone during that time, not even the universe. Aristotle wrote, “Our feelings towards our friends reflect our feelings towards ourselves.” I hope I never feel that alone again.

I'm thinking a lot about my friends right now while observing the importance of friendship here in the jungle. I watch my friend Jane interact with her friends, how they care for each other, make a point to spend time with each other doing meaningful things and I am reminded that no matter where we are, a thriving metropolis, sleepy beach town, jungle village, our friends and family are all that we really have.

 

I love yoga for all its metaphorical applications. Listening to my various teachers speak I often hear them saying something and at the same time I hear multiple layers of lessons and meaning. Today Terra talked about difficult postures and how it’s not about forcing our bodies into them but to breathe and do the best we can for our individual practice in that moment. "If you are struggling, grab a prop!" Gabby insisted as she demonstrated the difference between a very shaky triangle pose and a grounded, steady one using a block. "Props are friends."

I hope that whatever challenges come my way there is someone in my life that cares about me enough to be my "prop."

 

"Be"

Emma, my 19 year old niece who died suddenly just two weeks ago, had a document tacked up on her bedroom wall that included two columns; Life is About and Life isn’t About. Under each she outlined in great detail what those meant to her-  Life is about: Helping those who need it, Protecting the earth, Creating, Living for today and Loving. Life is not about: Being caught up in the past, Waiting around, Being selfish and Wishing things were different.

In her bedroom there was also wall space painted with chalkboard paint where she very artistically wrote, Be. I don’t know if it was her favorite word or her mantra, but I like to imagine that when she woke up each day in her bedroom full of visual and spiritual inspiration, she would see that word there and it would inspire her.

Today was a "Be" day here in Nosara. With the stress of last night’s gig behind me- it’s hard to believe I actually stressed about it.... it was relaxed, I did fine and people seemed genuinely appreciative- I gave myself permission to sleep late, staying in my dream state until thunderstorms coaxed me out of bed close to noon!

Moving with no plans,  just “being”, I prepared beans, rice, tomato salad and some kind of pumpkin for a later meal. Jane invited me to come on an afternoon outing so I hopped in the car with Jane and three friends and headed to the property of a man who runs a sort of superfood mecca from his home.

Driving in and around Nosara is not for the faint of heart. There are really no roads to speak of only stretches of gravel, dirt and mud riddled with huge holes and crevices. There are also no shoulders and at times it seems as if you’re going to topple right off into a roaring river or deep gulch full of who knows what. We spent about twenty minutes navigating this madness until we reached our destination.

Pulling into a lush yard full of tropical vegetation, coconut and banana trees, I noticed a huge organized pile of raw coconuts, looking like cannon balls, waiting to be processed next to a bunch of roots I couldn’t identify. Skeins of bananas in varying degrees of ripeness hung from the rafters and a refrigeration unit on the porch outside the entrance door held bottles of mysterious concoctions while clean floor rugs beckoned us to remove shoes and step inside.

Just inside the door there was a wooden table crafted from the trunk of a tree where we gathered to sample and taste todays offerings. There were juices fermented and fresh, good for cleansing and daily drinking, spicy roasted coconut, dried banana and guanybana, organic chocolate and delicate oils for the body. Behind the counter were floor to ceiling shelves stacked with jars and bottles full of mysterious ingredients. Glass fronted refrigerators revealed rows of bottled juices and potions. Bob Marley was everywhere, on posters and t-shirts hanging on the walls.  Thank you letters from school children filled an entire door.

As we gathered our purchases I toyed with the pronunciation of guanaybana, a tropical fruit loaded with vitamins and reported healing properties, which in Spanish sounds a lot like the word in the Muppet song, monomena (bu be ba dipee), so of course I had to sing it and was promptly joined by our host and we sang together joyously a few times through even though everyone else in the room had no idea what we were singing!

I left with six homemade juices, chocolate, dried banana, coconut and body oil and an appreciation for the wonders of the jungle and the people who carve out such creative existences here.

Back at home, Jane and I took Charlie, Jane’s amazing dog, to the beach for a walk and a game of throw the stick. I shared my dinner with Jane and now I am enjoying the complete quiet of the night save for a few insect chirps and random monkey howls.

Just Being.

Independance Day

Independance Day.
Five years ago on this very day I wrote these words down in my jouranl as I was driving to our mountain home in Asheville, North Carolina to take a break from a confusing and painful situation at home. My husband Dan had become very distant and strange and I knew something was horribly wrong, but I could not figure out what it was and he could not expess what was going on with him to me. So I left. I took 10 days, starting on Independance Day, to clear my head, clean our mountain home, practice yoga and meditate on my marriage. It was the first time in our 22 years of marriage that I was truly alone for that length of time and it gave me the opportunity and the space I needed to sort things out. What came were more questions, but also the knowing that my love for Dan was deep and true and that I couldn't force him to do things my way or to "give ultimatums". "I am not an ultimatum giving person" is what I wrote in my journal during that time. I knew Dan loved me and that our relationship was unique and strong. What I didn't know, and I found out two months later was that Dan was having an affair. So now on this Independance Day, five years later, I am again alone and feeling independant in almost every sense of the word. I am still married to Dan and we have both worked long and hard to bring our relationship back to balance. It hasn't been easy and it has taken up alot of my "space". And as we've healed our marriage and ourselves, my soul has been asking for space. I have been asking for space, out loud, on paper and in prayer. Then an email from a musician friend arrives late May. "Can you come to Nosara, Costa Rica to sing and teach for two months?"