Reflections on moving into the road

We took a family surfing lesson today – first lesson ever for all of us.  Elder at Patos Surfing was kind, patient, relaxed, attentive, and encouraging with each of us.  Of course, his demonstrations made surfing look so simple, so graceful.  As with many sports, I’m pretty bad (. . . so far)!  I need more leg strength to pop right up rather than struggle up awkwardly (same as when I low lunge in yoga), and more balance.  Hmm – something to practice!  We get to use the boards free for the next 5 days so will practice a bit and see if I can at least enjoy a few “standing” stints.  For now I sit with an ice pack on my right knee (which hit the sand hard first time I went down – I think that’ll be purple!). Spencer declared it, on a scale of 1-10, as a 12.  He loved it, and popped up on the board each time as though gravity isn't a thing. 

 

Last Sunday on a beautiful beach, I nonchalantly added my cell phone to Neil’s phone in his dry bag – which unfortunately didn’t stay dry.  Wish I’d taken my chances with leaving it on the beach in our backpack.  Then while drying his out from the saltwater baptism (sans protective cover), Neil then dropped it from a bunkbed onto a hard tile floor.  Urgh, sorry phones.  Until / unless we buy a new one here, that means far fewer pictures and less connection both with local logistics and far-off friends/family (ironic, huh, since one of my 3 words is connection?).  Lesson learned anew on diversification of risk. 

I had the sense from our last trip 10 years ago (see prior blog at Neil and Yvette’s Travels and Travails), that it might take some time to “move in” to the road – that this first month in Costa Rica might feel like a mix of regular vacation, plus mentally getting used to being on “the road”  plus finalizing/processing admin stuff (wow that list seems endless – purchasing health and travel insurance for this year, turning in claims from all the medical appointments we had to get READY for this trip both to insurance plus HSA claims, finalizing utility switchovers to the renters, etc.).  COVID seems to add a tiny refugee quality to our experience (tho of course this is nothing relative what many refugees endure, big respect and compassion there, my thoughts are especially with those fleeing / trying to flee Afghanistan now).  Even here we’re still keeping to ourselves a bit more than normal, and the potential next / future countries is a short list, even than we’d thought given how the Delta variant is thriving.  For several nights now, Kamilla’s melt downs have included that she must go back home; it seems to hit her most at bedtime, and tonight was focused on our cat Jinx.  Concurrently, I know Kamilla's’s having fun during the day -- declared favorite thing today was boogey-boarding.   

Kamilla did Spencer's hair (what she wanted) while he talked about Minecraft (what he wanted)

And so I observe my/our emotions as we “move in” to this trip.  Three (-ish) words I hold right now for the year include stillness/space, connection, and play.  I imagine / aspire to a somewhat zen state, being reflective, journaling, being healthy with yoga and eating well, mindfully reading meaningful books, joyfully connecting with my family and new friends.  But often the reality is much messier – here I’m often managing for being hot, sticky, avoiding ants on our counter, preparing food, washing dishes, parenting, helping “solve problems” with (often squabbles between) the kids, etc.  While I think the jungle and all it’s critters are amazing – I have a hard time connecting to a sense of wonder.  As the honeymoon of a new place wears off and we each lack usual comforts, routines, toys to go be alone with – we get grumpy with each other.  I try to direct myself and the kids to small comforts when we need to – a movie, potato chips, a nap, dip in the pool, space from each other, a walk.  It feels a bit self-absorbed to reflect on this.  And I try to be patient and compassionate with all these emotions as I notice them – in myself and others.  I think that’s what part of space/stillness, and connection, and play all mean. 

School: math via bananagrams tile analysis

Today we turned in our little golf cart we’ve enjoyed for the last week (nicknamed “nova roja” as it was slow and red), and tomorrow we’ll get a rental car to facilitate our jaunts about.  Today we even did some school.  Had a yummy bruschetta, spaghetti, salad and watermelon dinner on the porch with our mosquito coil smoking under the table.  Now I’m enjoying a lovely rainstorm pounding on our roof, and we’re dry and cozy inside, and headed to bed soon.