A few weeks ago I had to make a trip up to the capital – San Jose – to deal with some personal business.  I usually go up and back the same day unless I’ve got some time to kill, then I’ll stay over night, have a nice dinner and go see a movie.  It’s between a 3.5 and 6 hour trip depending on numerous factors — traffic, long caravans of semi trucks, cow crossings, fallen trees, or road work to name the most common of them.  So going up and back in the same day can be a bit exhausting – but sometimes you just gotta’ put your big girl pants on and take care of your biz.

I usually take the bus up there because for me, it’s just easier.  I can read or nap the entire trip and the bus station is walking distance or a short cab ride to nearly all the things I ever need to do.  Why bother with the hassle and frustration of driving and paying for parking?  So the bus, which is one of the only things in Costa Rica that is ever punctual, arrived 25 minutes late at my pick up spot and took about 45 minutes longer than usual to actually arrive in San Jose.   That right there put me about 1 hour behind my guestimated schedule.  The plan was to catch the 3:30 p.m bus back home, which because of its route usually takes about 3.5 hours to get me back home.  The following bus at 4:30 p.m. takes a different route, through heavy rush hour traffic, and takes foreeeevver to get back (up to 7 hours!!).  My bladder just isn’t big enough for long road journeys like that. 🙂  Sadly, as my bad luck turned out – I missed the earlier, quicker bus and had to take the later snail speed one.  {{grrrrrr}}

Not only did it take nearly 2.5 hours to just get OUT of downtown San Jose, it then got dark which meant I had a long ride ahead of me being unable to read since my phone battery was dying and I couldn’t use the flashlight.  I was really trying not to get in a pissy mood because I get bored on the bus without a book to entertain my mind, and the bus was packed with all seats full and the aisle full of standing riders.  I get seriously claustrophobic in these conditions!

I closed my eyes and just took a deep breath and said to myself, “ok, so just chill out, you’re stuck in traffic, you’re cramped, you have nothing to read and you have around the next 6 hours this way.  Deal!!”  {{Another deep breath}}  Ok, how to entertain my mind?  I said to myself, “think of a happy memory.”  Of course obvious things quickly came up.  Moving to Costa Rica.  Holidays.  Birthdays.  {{Breathe}}  Ok.  {{Open eyes}}  UGH, not much time has passed.  Ok, think of some more memories.  As the obvious memories quickly came and went out, old, forgotten moments started poking in and instead of allowing them to just rush by and exit, I stopped my mind and lingered.

Moments I hadn’t thought of in — pfffftttt – forever!

Making molasses cookies with my mom when I was a little girl.  She used to keep bacon fat in a metal can on the back of the stove which is THE key to making moist, chewy cookies.  (If you’re my age, or older, for sure your mom did this!  So to all you young ‘uns, it’s not as gross as it sounds! Well, ok, yes it is, but trust me on this one — it’s yummy!)  I allowed myself to really re-experience the moment.  How the light came in through the kitchen window, it was hazy out.  My excitement to lick the batter off the mixers.  (We didn’t worry about eating raw eggs and getting salmonella back then!)

Then came up one of my first beach memories – Redondo Beach, California.  I must have been around 4.  I don’t remember much other than it was late afternoon, the sun was setting, the tide came up and although it wasn’t strong, I lost my balance.  My mom rushing to pick me back up.

Sewing Barbie clothes on my mom’s sewing machine when I was around 7.  She used to keep a fabric scrap bag (quilting was kinda’ big in the 70’s) and with a few folds and stitches, Barbie had a never-ending supply of new gear.  We had a looong orange and yellow shag rug in the living room with an orange velvet sofa set.   It was groovy!!  I mean really groovy — Austin Powers would have loved that room!

My first 2 wheel bike.  My dad built it for me as a surprise 5th b-day gift.  It was lavender with a rainbow, banana seat.  Colorful plastic fringe dangled off the handles and the tire spokes were each painted a different color.  We took the bike to the enormous playground of my school.  Dad stood behind me and held the back of the seat and instructed “Ok, pedal and I’ll hold on to the back to balance you.”  So I pedaled.  After a few minutes, I shouted over my shoulder “OK, I think you can let go now!” peering behind me and surprised to see my dad was waaaaaayyy at the other side of the playground – he must have let go immediately as I rode away (balancing perfectly!) all alone.

Going to the car races with my Dad as a small girl.  I loved the sound of the cars zooming around the track.  The announcer narrating lap after lap of speeding blurs.  The name Bobby Unser.  The wind.  My hair kept blowing into my eyes.

I sat like this on the bus and rummaged through years of memories.  Allowing myself to be present in each long ago experience, like the way a person who’s just died behaves in a movie.  Present and seeing everything, but not participating.  When I opened my eyes again, we had traveled more than half the way home already!  I had passed a significant amount of time re-experiencing wonderful times in my life and completely averted all the frustration I was feeling about be trapped for a longer than anticipated bus ride home.  (Oh my gosh!!!  Is that like….meditation??!)

I smiled to myself because all this reminiscing left me feeling really good and happy!  Crazy how many indexes of memories a lifetime can store in your mind and we forget about them.  But really, they’re not forgotten they’re just sitting there under layers of other garbage waiting to be recalled and re-experienced.