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. 

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."