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.

Throwing in the Towel

I'm in an antihistamine haze. After a sleepless night of constant itching, tossing and turning due to an allergic reaction to something that manifested itself into a head to toe body rash,  I broke down and went to the doctor today who gave me a shot of antihistamine in one thigh and a steroid in the other. The crazy thing about this is is that Dan has the same thing. He started itching Friday night as we were playing at El Chivo and after our first set he was convinced that he was being eaten alive by sightless bugs, critters, or whatever else lurks here in the jungle. After inspecting him in the light of the next day, I determined that he did not have bites on his body but an all-over rash. It wasn't until the next morning that mine appeared.

I've been thinking a lot about how I take care of myself and the wise messages my body sends me unbidden or not. The months leading up to coming here I was recovering from a slew of maladies that started with a chest cold, moved to pneumonia then onto a positive test for mono. "Hello Laura, this is your body...WTF??"

The thing is, I don't really like to talk about this stuff. I have a few trusted souls that will actually listen to me and the stories I wouldn't generally share, and one of them is my wise teacher Al Bailey. He has a way of putting everything into perspective in a sentence or less. I was on his table not long before coming here and I meekly gave him my recent diagnosis of having the Epstein Barr virus and mono and he said, "Man...they got a name for everything."

Yes, I understand that to try and name and label everything that happens in my body is a fools game. When Al said that to me my entire body sighed, "Ah ha!" I aspire to listen and allow, but sometimes its easier said than done, especially when your face and hands are swollen beyond recognition. Still, Danny has chosen to allow and let the reaction take its course and he seems fine.

There is a part of me that is so invested in the strong woman persona that I reflect out into the world, that makes it hard to admit that I'm weak and I need help. Today I threw in the towel. The drugs made me sleepy but that is exactly what I needed. I awoke as the sun was setting and joined Dan on our tiny veranda for a cold drink and a chat before moving inside to cook some chicken and coconut rice for dinner. Sleep is calling me.

I am grateful for the wisdom all around me and for discernment. Somewhere between allowing and breath, western medicine, the sea and the sun, my healing is here.

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.

Hidden

The hidden behind what the eye initially sees is an ongoing theme for me. As days extend and time stretches here in the languid lushness of the jungle, I can feel my senses sharpening and everyday something new reveals itself to me.

When I first arrived in Nosara I could hear the the deep guttural growls of the Howler Monkeys everywhere I went, but I could not see them through the layers of verdant vegetation. Then one day as I was just sitting in my small studio, looking out at nothing in particular, an entire family of frisky howlers appeared before me, methodically picking and eating the leaves off of a nearby tree. Ever since then I see them everywhere, everyday. It's almost like I've been sprinkled with magic dust so that I can see things no one else can; lizards camouflaging themselves in a perfect shade of brown to mimic the hand-hewn logs holding up the corrugated plastic shelter at the Surf Dog Cafe, tiny ants in a line carrying neon green leaves twice their size to an undisclosed location, bright red crabs hiding in the brush on the beach path, the growing of the plants outside my door after 24 hours of rain.

Yesterday I went to the beach during high tide and walked south for as far as I could. The waves were coming in fast and choppy, the sky clear and blue with no sign of approaching afternoon showers and I had the beach all to myself. When I turned around I noticed the tide had receded and there ahead of me were my beloved tide pools. The were completely submerged just an hour ago and now ready for me to soak in the calm waters resting in the stone.

Most every night after I climb up into my comfy loft and turn the light off, my ears begin tuning in to the sounds of the jungle at night. I'm not so enamored with some of theses sounds because they are the sounds of creatures who are scuffling around on the rooftop right above my bed and sometimes it sounds like they are inside my casa. Last night as I was reading on my little couch before bed, a little black creature scurried in and disappeared. I was comforted only by the fact that in no way could this creature make its way up my ladder and into my bed! I do feel safe and before my eyes close I gaze out into the night as my vision adjusts to the darkness and I listen to the monkeys, rain and wind in the trees.

Things hidden can be frightening or enlightening depending on how you look at them. Tuning in to all of the frequencies around me I am opening myself to a world of possibility and in that opening I am also vulnerable. It scares me sometimes but then I think of all the things I would miss, heartbreak and healing, monkeys and tide pools.

Garlic and Butter

There is a huge palm tree trunk right in the middle of the main beach and everyday I come I see that the trunk is never in the same place. Sometimes it completely parallel to the sea making a perfect seat for sunset and surf gazing and then other times it is perpendicular to the sea forcing us to step over it as we make our way up and down the shore. I expect to come one day to find the tree has gone out to sea where maybe it will float onto another tropical paradise to serve as a seat, shelter or food for bugs there.

Guiones Beach at sunset is to the Outer Banks Beaches during a benefit surf competition. Everyone you know is there. I set out this afternoon after sleeping late-9:00 am- and hanging out at home all day while it rained nonstop. I cooked, read, wrote a little, napped and after watching at least six monkeys eating leaves on a nearby tree, I roused myself from my daze, threw on some cutoffs, cowboy boots, slung by backpack on my shoulder and headed out.

The rain had miraculously stopped so I decided to walk the beach to the first of my desired destinations. I was on a mission to rent a movie, get online (I haven't had internet in three days) and eat pizza. Stepping onto the beach through a clearing in the jungle, I navigated a small river that was making its way from jungle to sea by walking on the heels of my boots and then headed north on hardened sand just out of reach of the incoming tide. I picked up shells as I walked and stopped to talk to three locals who were, I discovered, digging little mussels from the sand and placing them in plastic bags bulging with the little treasures. Waves were double head high and the surfers looked eery cutting in and out of the gray water against even grayer skies.

Even though there was no visible sign of a setting sun through the deep dark clouds, the usual crowd of locals gathered anyway, a true testament to the importance of this community ritual. Walking the beach I like to look everyone in the eye, smile and say, “hola!” Everyone looks familiar because I am walking everywhere, every day and I get to witness the workings of daily life here. Several people who were at the Gilded Iguana last night stopped me to say they enjoyed the music and I talked to a young man I met last night who is working on his singing. He gave me the name of a song that I am going to try to learn for him so that perhaps he will sing with me.

Continuing to move with the ebb and flow of life here I am like that tree trunk on the beach, not quite sure where I'll be tomorrow, but imagining the possibilities of those tender treasures just beneath the sand....with garlic and butter!

Trust Part II

Toady I spent a good hour playing in a tide pool with a seven year old boy. He spoke very little English, and I very little Spanish, but somehow we managed to communicate. I learned about his family, the fish he and his brother were catching, pelican eggs, words for cooking and night, the name of his dog and much more. We skipped rocks and laughed, I shared my dried bananas with him and we counted the fish his older brother reeled in. I felt giddy like a girl and the tide pool was so fresh and clear and deep enough to swim underwater with my eyes open and float on the top.

Life is unfolding here, taking shape. I am feeling a sense of trust that this good intention, my good intentions, to work here, to become a part of the community will create work for me and a safe home to live in while I'm here.

There was a time in my life where my perceptions about trust were completely attached to my  primary relationship . I was so involved in my life as a wife, mother, professional, daughter, sister, etc. that it never occurred to me to stop and think about what I was doing, where I was going and who I really was. I way too busy doing it.

When my life as I knew it turned on a dime and left me with no solid ground to stand on, nothing to trust, I felt like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, far away from home and desperately trying to find a way back.

Not trusting anyone around me including myself, I set out on a journey to put back the pieces of my life that remained and build from the smoldering ashes (I'm not kidding, ask me about it sometime) something brand new.

This brand new might look scary to some because it's ambiguous and mysterious, it flows and moves and can not be predicted or tied down. I really don't know what tomorrow is going to bring me. I can think I control various parts and people in my life, but in reality, I control nothing. There was a time when that would have been paralyzing to me, but looking back I see I was paralyzed.

I want to float in a tide pool and feel the south wind move my body through the water and trust in myself to know I have what I need, especially the ability to create whatever kind of life I want.

My Tide Pool At Sunset

Trust Part 1

Early this morning I went to the local weekly organic farmers market. I can't believe how lucky I am to be able to trod down my jungle path a short distance and step into a veritable feast for the senses. There underneath a rustic structure constructed of tree trunks and palm fronds, vegetables, fruits and all kinds of farm stand offerings both familiar and not, were grouped in bundles and piles on tarps all over the ground and all around the perimeter on rough hewn planks supported by makeshift saw horses.

Papayas, plantains, citrus and squashes lay next to stacks of brown eggs, purple roots, perfectly ripe tomatoes, avocados and watermelons. There was  fresh coconut juice right out of its shell, cups of cool ceviche, tropical baked goods, sweet and savory and steaming cups of organic Costa Rican coffee. What to do? Keeping in mind that I live in a tiny studio with a just a little bit larger than dorm sized refrigerator, I filled two small cotton sacks with freshly hulled speckled beans, tomatoes, oranges and limes (to mix with my rum), fresh basil, tiny yellow squashes, an avocado, onions and strange looking purple tubers.

Once everything was back in place in my casa, I prepared for my yoga class and hit the trail again. I ended up being the only student in class today so my instructor, a beautiful 29 year old dancer and yogi gave me a totally personalized experience. She told me moved here two years ago to dance. Imagine that? Moving to a remote, tiny jungle community to dance. But that is just what she has created for herself. She teaches dance at this studio and at the local school here and told me she was involved in putting together a performing arts group for students- the first of its kind here. Before teaching yoga this morning, she choreographed a routine to "Thriller" with a group of local parents who are going to "flash mob" their kids on Halloween!

I'm inspired by people who trust in their gifts and carve out a creative existence no matter where they choose to land. The more I think about trust and faith, or more importantly, the more I engage in trusting myself, others, my surroundings and circumstances I can see how wanting to dance in the jungles of Nosara is no big stretch at all.

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.

Think Less, Feel More

I’m trying not to think too much, but it’s not easy especially when I look back at the past few months and everything that has transpired; a move into a new home, a hectic summer of non-stop work, travel, a tragic death in our family and now here.

I can give myself some “slack” some understanding and know that it may take me awhile for me to become centered in my new environ and routine. Gabby asked us yesterday, “Why did you come to class today?" And then said," That is your intention,”

Why do we do what we do? In this moment I am still slightly scattered with my intention to being here in Nosara. Taking a personal inventory I note: I am here to recalibrate my physical body- there is something about my life here that seems to always bring me to a more vibrant, balanced physical place. I am here to work on my music, to become more independent with my performing and songwriting. Nosara has always been such a gracious and welcoming audience. It’s the perfect place for me to delve into unchartered territory and feel loved while doing it. I am also here to expand my writing and begin the outline of a book I’ve had in my mind and in various notebooks for some years now.

So these intentions are what I need to focus on, what will guide me and then I’ll see what happens from there.

In class today we were instructed to bow our heads to our heart center- to let the heart lead. Tonight I played my first solo gig ever to a very welcoming audience. Now on this still evening with the sounds of the jungle lulling me to sleep, I will add to my intentions to think less and feel more.

Namaste

Practice Makes Teacher

I woke to the sound of rain bathing all the layers of the jungle canopy and bouncing happily off of the metal roof of my rancho. A soothing lullaby through the night, I’m told the rain is necessary now to assure the upcoming dry season will have enough water and electricity.

The sun was just beginning to rise as I carefully navigated the small ladder leading to the ground from my loft bed. Every inch of space is precious in my little nest. As I made my coffee I put aside the urge to question what in the world I was doing up so early! I really love sleeping and can usually only be roused from my dreams by my lovers hand holding a steaming mug of coffee and almond milk under my nose.

It would’ve been easy to settle back in and listen to the jungles music, but my commitment to a daily yoga practice while here in Nosara was calling so I made my preparations, packing my backpack with rain gear, sarong, notebook, glasses, sunglasses and money, layered my yoga clothes over a bikini, put on my cowboy boots and started out on the long walk to Harmony Hotel.

Our instructor Gabby has been happily settled in Nosara for some time now. Originally from Costa Rica, Gabby lives life pura vida style, teaching yoga and Pilates, surfing and sharing her love of life with those fortunate enough to enter her orbit. As young as she is Gabby is such a natural and enthusiastic teacher, who incorporates simple lessons, humor and artful demonstrations in her 90 minute classes.

Lying on Emma’s yoga mat, my eyes full of tears, I was feeling emotional at the beginning of our practice , but soon fell into the rhythms of asana, breathe and laughter. Using English and Spanish Gabby showed us how our posture mirrored how we lived our life, hunched forward-in the future, leaning too far back-in the past, standing straight, spine and neck long-voila! Here and now.

She said a lot of funny things like “Friday Night!” when our tailbones were stretched to the sky in downward facing dog. I’m not really sure what that means but It made me smile. She said something else that sounded a bell as soon as I heard it. “Practice Makes Teacher.”

We all know the saying “Practice makes Perfect”, but does it really? How could we ever reach perfection? Isn’t there always room for some kind of improvement? Some kind of transcendence in anything we endeavor to do? When I think about perfection it seems so final to me.

I’ve been repeating the "practice makes perfect" phrase lately as I have been working on my guitar playing. It never ceases to surprise me that I actually do get better the more I play. Even so, I can’t imagine ever saying, “Wow, I’m perfect at this!”

Practice Makes Teacher resonates so much more with me because not only is what we practice and how we practice a teacher to us in so many ways, we can always share what we know, even if it is a brief insight or small detail, thus becoming a teacher ourselves.

Tomorrow night I will play a solo gig with only my guitar and voice at the Gilded Iguana in Guiones Beach. It will be the very first time that I perform solo in my adult life-ever. I’m nervous about entering a whole new dimension, but grateful for the opportunity to challenge myself and to continue spreading my wings.

 Friday Night!!

Snake Medicine

I am back in my beloved village of Nosara, Costa Rica where two years ago I began an exploration of my life,work and relationships with the hope that I could return home somehow transformed, and I did. The two years between then and now have been an amazing journey full of changes and growth, letting go of old “stuff” and gaining new. I never intended to be away from this home away from home for so long, but what can I say? Life happens.

In the very first few hours after my arrival I found myself tucked into Karma, a tiny golf cart, with my friend Jane at the wheel, headed to Ill’ Basilica for a much needed bite to eat. As we traveled in the dark down the muddy, potholed gravel road, I saw a very big snake crossing in front of our vehicle. At first speechless, I was able to eventually utter some kind of sound as my brain registered the length - longer than me, and width- as wide as my calf, of the serpentine creature. Not seeing the snake, Jane thought I was making ecstatic noises about finally being here. When I told her the reason for the goose bumps covering my entire body, she said, “Oh good. That’s a really powerful sign.”

Last week on the day I turned 50, I said goodbye to my 19 year old niece Emma, who died tragically in an accidental fall. She had just started college in Richmond, Virginia and was by all accounts on fire with her new environment, friends and all the new found possibilities of life before her. I knew Emma was special. Though we didn't get to see each other on a regular basis, I observed her and tried to get to know her when she visited on her summer vacations with her family on the Outer Banks of North Carolina, where I live. She was so cool and laid- back; always reading, always smiling. The sort of person you wanted to have around. When she died the family gravitated homeward to be together to mourn and remember her and as the weekend unfolded I entered Emma’s world.

Emma amazed me. Lying on her bed in her small but vibrantly painted bedroom I began to see my niece for the very first time. Her walls were covered in murals painted in her own hand depicting angels, nature, symbols and words about living in the present and being the “master of your destiny.” All around me were signs of the remarkable life Emma lived in just 19 short years. She was an accomplished award winning artist, an amazing singer and actor who recently took up hand drumming and yoga. She was exploring her chakras and quoting Eckhart Tolle. She was a loving daughter, sister, friend, niece, cousin and grandchild who never said a bad thing about anyone and who never talked about herself.

Why didn't I get to know her better? It’s easy to look back and see that perhaps I wasn't curious enough, or that I did not act on my curiosity. She was young. I’d have plenty of time to get to know her. After a recent encounter I had with a friend that left me feeling like she did not really know me, I devised a formula to help me understand the situation. Our perceptions are equal to the quality of our questions.

Emma would not want me to look back. She would want me to learn from her passing and go forward with these lessons. Ask better questions. Live in the present moment and never assume that you fully know the person you are standing next to, even if you've shared time and space on this earth for 19 years or any number of years for that matter. So many mysteries are waiting to be discovered. So much beauty- layers and layers in one fragile soul.

Gathering with family there was a lot of talk about spirit animals because Emma was so drawn to deer, so when the snake slithered by me only hours into my journey here, I took it as a sign from her.

“When the snake spirit animal appears in your life, it likely means that healing opportunities, change, important transitions, and increased energy are manifesting.” “Her energy is the cosmic declaration of, ‘Yes, I will survive!’ and it is for this reason she is the symbol presiding over all the healing arts.”

Thank you Emma.