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Handmade Jewelry For The Bohemian Soul

The Journey

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I have crossed paths with so many people lately that are at a crossroads in life.  It’s amazing the connection we share with others — the “human experience” — as we try to find the things that make us happy, create a life in which we feel fulfilled and connected with those around us — and ultimately, if we’re lucky find that place where we are truly content.

Someone recently gave me a book of poetry – “Ten Poems To Change Your Life”.

I’m not a huge poetry buff — especially when it’s sing-song rhyming poetry (not knocking it if you do like that!).  However, there was one poem in the book named “The Journey” by Mary Oliver that I read over and over because it was a poem that I had read during the year that I made the decision that I had to make some life changes — ultimately moving to Costa Rica.  I’ve come a long way.  Feeling very thankful that I listened to that little voice inside me and made the decisions that have placed me where I am today.

The Journey
~Mary Oliver

 One day you finally knew

what you had to do, and began,

though the voices around you

kept shouting

their bad advice–

though the whole house

began to tremble

and you felt the old tug

at your ankles.

“Mend my life!”

each voice cried.

But you didn’t stop.

You knew what you had to do,

though the wind pried

with its stiff fingers

at the very foundations,

though their melancholy

was terrible.

It was already late

enough, and a wild night,

and the road full of fallen

branches and stones.

But little by little,

as you left their voices behind,

the stars began to burn

through the sheets of clouds,

and there was a new voice

which you slowly

recognized as your own,

that kept you company

as you strode deeper and deeper

into the world,

determined to do

the only thing you could do—

determined to save

the only life you could save.

Watching The World Go By

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I’ve been on the move in one way or another for most of my life.  I went to 3 elementary schools, 2 junior high schools, and 3 high schools (plus one grade of independent studies).  I’ve lost count of how many different places I have lived thus far.

I’ve always been moving around.  I used to move just for the sake of moving.  Because, well, it was time to get a move on.  This move on was usually prompted by a bored random apartment search on Craig’s List, inputting a price range that I thought I could deal with, and BAM! — up would come some great, restored, 1920’s, hard wood floor, crown molding ceiling apartment.  Ok, maybe not always in the greatest of neighborhoods, but not the worst either!!  Usually smack dab in the middle of an “up and coming” neighborhood.  The next thing I’d know, I’d be turning over my ridiculously large security deposit and getting the keys to my new apartment.

I liked the recreation (and re-creation!) of having a new space.  New sights, new background noise, new smells in the hallways.

It was interesting to have new neighbors.  There have been some wonderful memories and some teeth-gritting nightmares.  The good:  The little girls who lived 3 doors down who became my best little buddies and would take my doggies for walks when I had long days at the office.  Or not so good:  The meth-head trust fund hippy who lived above me and left her tub running overnight, having it flood her apartment and subsequently mine!  She also loved to trot around her apartment, tweaking out, in wooden clogs on her hardwood floors (i.e., my ceiling) at 3:42 a.m. Good times.

I loved the different views out the windows, sometimes into other people’s windows, but even better when it was the unobstructed view facing west where I could watch the sunset over the silhouette of the city from my 8th floor apartment.

Sunset LA

Or the roof of my last apartment which was my favorite late night spot to perch, looking at the lights from the city and listening to buzz of life below.  It served doubly as good a spot to sip hot coffee at 5:30 a.m., my breath visible in the cold morning air, watching the sun come up over downtown.

New smells lingering outside in the hall and in the ancient rickety elevator (when it had one).  Korean food, Latin American food, sometimes a little hint of curry here and there.  Awesome little ethnic markets where I could discover new types of food and spices, and try imported, exotic fruits or previously unknown variations of some of my favorite vegetables.

I liked finding the quickest new route to work. Always trying to keep off the main boulevards and discover alternate routes through parallel running neighborhoods.  Seeing interesting buildings, beautiful gardens, artsy-fartsy houses, and even the occasional one that leaves you saying “what the…???”  A winner in this category, a home in an affluent neighborhood that had about 20, good-sized white statues of a naked Greek God or David or someone, standing majestically creating a “fence” around the yard.  During the holidays, each statute wore a Santa hat.  Someone once told me that the grass’ sprinkler system was attached to their **, well, you know.  Cute. I’ve never witnessed that so I can’t confirm if it’s true, but let’s face it, the naked statutes are quite bizarre so it really wouldn’t surprise me if it was.

I was always in motion in way or the other.  So it’s interesting for me to see where I’ve finally ended up.  How the pace of my life has shifted entirely.  For the first time in my life, I’ve stayed put for more than a handful of years. Occupied the same space, practically the same corner of the planet for most of the time.  I’ve seen so many lives go by that I feel like I’ve been here a lifetime, but I haven’t.  I just see more of people’s everyday lives here.  I see people fall in and out of love.  People meet and start a family.  People get hooked on drugs or lose spouses to alcoholism.  Addicts who get well and move on to better lives.  I’ve seen people live their dream, and for a few handfuls, their worst nightmare.

Don’t get me wrong, I still get the itch to “go”.  But go where?  I have a great shop.  I spend my days in front of the ocean doing something I love.  I meet people from all over the world.  I live in a place where people pay thousands of dollars to come spend a few days.  Oh and the best part — I get to bring my dogs to work (haha).  I think the itch is something ingrained in my character.  I’m always curious, always questioning and I feel like I’m always growing.  People ask me all the time “so will you be in Costa Rica for the rest of your life?”  I just answer “Ten years ago I didn’t think I’d be where I am – so who knows where I’ll be for the rest of my life.”  I do see more traveling in my immediate future and that definitely wouldn’t be a bad thing, now would it?

Driving At Dusk

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When I used to come to Costa Rica on vacation, I’d arrive in San Jose, rent an SUV and just travel for 2-3 weeks all over the country.  No schedule or agenda, just ending up wherever I ended up at the end of the day. Those were the best vacations of my life.  The freedom, the adventure, the never knowing exactly where you may end by day’s end.  During those trips, if I knew I really wanted to wake-up in a particular place, I’d leave where ever I was in the late afternoon, driving at night so that I wouldn’t have to waste the precious daylight behind the wheel.

Driving through the countryside of Costa Rica at dusk is magical.  The subdued shades of the sky peering out through the vegetation, the hot temps dropping to a comfortable temperature,  and one other element that really captivated me.  The community.  When you drive through the little barrios as the day is ending, you see everyone out and about socializing.  There are futbol games in the center of town, kids running around barefoot on lush grass fields with the town folk sitting around the outskirts chatting and cheering.  Kids on bikes, stopped on the side of the road, laughing and goofing off.  And every house seems to have a rocking chair or two on the porch where there are always people just talking, spending real time together.  The porches would be filled old folks with kids on their laps, teenagers sitting on the steps, chatting at passersby.  It was the same over and over, town after town.  And that struck me as something very special.

Maybe it’s just where I came from, but in LA, we most definitely did not sit out on our front porch everyday, lazily rocking in rocking chairs, chatting with our neighbors.  In fact, I rarely even said 3 words to anyone I ever lived by.  It wasn’t that we were unfriendly with each other (well, not by city dwelling standards), you just keep so much to yourself in that life.  And the sense of family or community is so disconnected – but that’s normal.  It’s like you can’t create a sense of family and community out of thin air if it’s never been part of the culture.  And I think that’s what really lingered in my mind after returning from these trips.  When I’d touch down and step off the plane, that feeling of connectedness was replaced by coldness.  Each time I’d return to Costa Rica, I could feel the warmth on my skin again, in my spirit.

Since I’ve moved here, I haven’t done much traveling at all.  I’m so content where I am, I’ve sort of come to live in a little bubble.  It’s a good bubble though so I’m not at all complaining.  But this past week I had some appointments in San Jose (the capital) and made the 4+ hour drive at dusk (I usually drive it early morning when I need to go).  In the 7 years I’ve lived here, I don’t think I’ve done any driving at dusk outside of my little neck of the woods.  I had actually forgotten these late afternoon, small town scenes and the way the light came through the trees illuminating portions of the highway and peeking through corn fields.

I had forgotten the tranquility that I’d feel, the sense of belonging, even if I belonged only as an observer.  It struck me how something that I had such a huge emotional connection with before – had somehow faded into my memory banks.

It was a very pleasant reminder of one of the many reasons I am where I am.