How I Found Myself Again in Costa Rica

site de rencontre cochonne gratuit This is what travel is about. We strain to renew our capacity for wonder, to shock ourselves into astonishment once again. ~Shana Alexander

is dallas dating robbie Linda died on May 6th. Twenty days later I was on a plane going home to my folks to recover; returning to my parents who in their own right had given me two deadly scares. In October my mother’s appendix burst. Due to unforeseen negligence, 3 surgeries later, and 17 days in the hospital, she finally came home, but not before seeing Angels at the end of her bed. My dad, perhaps not wanting to be outdone, fell over on the golf course. For ten seconds his heart stopped. But being my dad, he refused the hospital and continued his game. He had a pacemaker put in that next Thursday. Suffice it to say, this year has been slightly stressful.

site de rencontres ile de france During this time of rest, I was invited to a press tour in Costa Rica. Now I had done press junkets all over California and Arizona, and my children had already logged in 13 state visits in their short lives, but I hadn’t gone international since I changed my last name.

like it This is ironic (and partly sad) because before I was married I had been to over twenty countries just in my twenties. Prior to when we actually went to war, I wanted to be an overseas war correspondent. Travel made me alive. I felt more at home in a hostel or a hut than I did in my flat in San Francisco. I felt myself.

are there any real free hookup websites But kids came. And with my kids, I did what I do with everything I am passionate about: I threw myself in whole-heartedly. I became a SAHM and I had no regrets. But to keep my toe in the passion pool of travel, I wrote and edited for an online travel site. prevent meclizine where to buy When the kids went to bed, I tapped into the joy of telling stories about seeing new places.

For my trip to Costa Rica, I was returning to a land I had once explored. After calling off my wedding, I escaped to the jungle for a month to surf, to roam, and to find out who I was.

Now, sixteen years later, I was looking for her again. I had only left my kids for longer than an overnight once (when my mother was in the hospital), but I have raised my kids to be pretty independent. My 9-year-old was to be at his first week-long camp, and my 12-year-old was having special time with her Oma, so I had nothing to worry about. They were in good hands.

At the airport, I set my bag on the ground. I was determined to only go to Costa Rica with a carry-on, just like the first time. Of course, now being post 9/11, I wouldn’t be carrying a knife ON ME like I did that trip. Music in my ears and paperback in my hands, I rested my head on my bag and closed my eyes. I was free. Free to do what I like.

My grey streaks that I had just recently stopped covering, glistened in the airport window. They were a stark reminder that I wasn’t my 20-year-old self. But this 40-year-old, with her battle scars and earned merits of bravery and honor from all life had thrown at her, stared boldly into this new adventure.Arriving in Costa Rica, I was caressed with the same smells and breezes I had known before. The afternoon rain still lingered in the air. A charming guide brought me to my inn and I set my bag down and breathed out, “I’m home.”

The true fruit of travel is perhaps the feeling of being nearly everywhere at home. ~Freya Stark

That night I met up with the five other ladies I’d be adventuring with. When it’s your job to explore, you kind of assume you’re going to like other women who choose it as a job as well. And that I did. We had single moms, and entrepreneurs, one making a major professional change, and a 25-year-old. I describe her just by her age because that was me…then. Twenty-five and with the world open with unlimited possibilities.

http://aquanetta.pl/22975-amitriptyline-price.html We all knew how to tell a story. And we all knew how to have an adventure.So for the next five days, we white water rafted, swam under waterfalls, zip lined high above the jungle, and rappelled down stepping into thin air. Our nights consisted of long dinners and strong drinks. https://begorgeousdayspas.com/24621-januvia-cost.html highlight We talked loudly and sometimes crassly, like modern day female Hemingway’s. We exchanged travel stories like war stories. I was with my people.

I have learned this strange thing too about travel: One may return to a place and quite unexpectedly meet oneself still lingering from the last time. ~Helen Bevington

And I did find myself still lingering there in this country I loved so much. buy naltrexone Each day I grew stronger and each jump off a boulder into the river was a reversed baptism of my old self coming back.In one waterfall pool, I found myself floating, staring up at the tress, repeating, “I’m so happy, I’m so happy.” I hadn’t felt that in a long time.

Every one of my senses was alive in Costa Rica. I felt, I breathed, I dreamed. I wondered how I could take this home with me.

It’s a trip of a lifetime when you get the chance to stay at one of National Geographic’s “Unique Lodges of the World” (Pacuare Lodge). But it’s a LIFETIME trip when you rediscover yourself there.

Fighting hard to keep remembering this feeling. Looking to where I’m going next…

Trips don’t end when we return home-in a sense it’s when they usually begin. ~Agenes E. Benedict

Mama Got Her Hair Wet

Alternative title to this post:

Searching for a Child-Like State of Being

replace http://bruinsbasketball.net/91370-buy-effexor-online.html My Summer Goal this year was to get my hair wet. You see, I’m a dyed blonde and my straw-like, over processed, yellow tresses tend to grab green from the chlorine of any amateur pool owner’s water. So there’s a lot of “Don’t splash Mommy!” and “Chill out, you’ll get my hair wet.” And frankly, that’s not fun. Even in the ocean, where I feel at most myself, I have neglected to submerge in recent years, knowing it is going to be a pain in my rear to comb through later. Again, no fun. But water is where I am the most fun and to not have my kids know that side of me is…sad. So this summer I decided to do some cannon balls into the pool and have underwater hand stand competitions (which, of course, I won). My kids saw me laugh again.

The “What Ifs” Got Me

And this was only my first step in searching for a child-like state of being. My life has become ruled by “What Ifs” and “Be Carefuls.” I’ve become a joy kill. I swear I used to be the funnest person in the room when I was younger. My friend’s 5-year-old ran up to me the other day to give me a great big bear hug. I stopped her because I had just gotten out of hot yoga and I was sweaty and didn’t want to get her wet. My girlfriend replied “She doesn’t care. She wants to show you what you mean to her.” She reminded me that kid’s don’t have those boundaries we set up as adults and continue to hide behind. I need to give more wet hugs. I need to drop some boundaries. I need to be less careful. https://www.lyquix.com/lidert/1773 Travel used to push those boundaries for me; how can I rediscover travel to use it again to open me back up?

The Ocean is Calling Me

CA beach

To put this child-like state of being into affect, I challenged myself to be a little spontaneous on my most recent day out. My daughter and I were heading to an art festival, and as we approached the turn off, I asked her “Should we just go to the beach instead?” The ocean is calling me, and I must answer. Caution be gone, I even ponied up the $15 to park (knowing this beach is really the gem of So Cal), and down we went to the water. At first I began with “Don’t go into the water past your thighs.” (Because old habits are hard to break.) But then we went further and further, until the water washed over us like the most spiritual baptism. We laughed and we splashed and we rode the waves in. 

One day my daughter may not want to be seen with me. One day being at the beach with her mother won’t be cool. So that day I soaked it all in-my daughter, the water, the joy. check these guys out And perhaps pure joy is how to become childlike again.

***Side Note: Later that evening, I discovered I lost my driver’s license at the beach. My joy quickly subsided when it dawned on me that I was going to have to spend a day at the DMV. Trying to sustain that joy, takes purposing it into being on a daily basis. So to regain it once again, the next day when a skater rode by me with an albino boa wrapped around him, and asked me if I wanted to pet it, I did. I was hesitant at first, but reminded myself that my younger self would do it. As I went to touch the enormous snake, the skater said to me “See, you’re being brave.” And as my fingers went to the back of the boa’s body instead of near the mouth, the skater continued “Ish…Brave-ish.” my explanation That’s okay, that’s a beginning.