Bumps in the Road

The kilometers covered walking around Monteverde fall more easily under my feet now. Seven weeks without a car have helped me get in much better shape. There are several hills that will never be easy (and which must regularly be traveled), but the walk to my Monday morning yoga class, which in the beginning brought exhaustion, is now pleasant thinking time without complaints from my body.

Today as I walked, my thought wandered first to Bogie and then to things I’m learning about life. We’ve all had challenges here in Costa Rica, the pets included. Bogie has had to have a cone around his head recently so that a wound on his leg can heal, and this morning I was thinking about the beautiful new pale pink skin appearing as scabs fall off. I’ve been told that old cells in our body are regularly replaced by new ones so that literally the body I have today won’t be the same as the one I have when we return to St. Louis in June or July. I suspect I’ll actually look a little different too--a few pounds lighter, skin a bit tanner. But I wonder how many people will notice that every cell of my soul is also new—a renewal process that I can already feel happening (and that I sometimes balk at).

When people asked me if I was planning to blog regularly this year, I refused to make a commitment sensing that this experience was going to be at times a bit messy as I thought through paradigms and spent time in self-examination, that it was going to be about so much more than white-faced monkeys and toucans…about things hard to put on paper. And this has indeed been the case. Looking at the months and seasons that still lie ahead (with weeks of incessant rain coming soon), I can only hope that some of the mental miles will gradually fall more easily underfoot too.

The first month here, Heidi, Lincoln, and Mike were involved in a production of the musical "Urine Town" and my time focused on figuring out daily life—how to make the showers and washing machine work, where to get online, finding good things to eat, etc. When school started three weeks ago, a different reality started to settle in. I realized how much my sense of purpose, community, and identity felt linked to my job. While Mike is having a blast with more volunteer options at his feet than he can take on, finding a niche for myself (i.e. feeling satisfied and purposeful) is proving to be a bit more challenging.

The start of school has been hard for Heidi and Lincoln as well. We’ve realized that when their current school talks about it academics, it is comparing itself to the average US public school, and neither Principia nor Crossroads is average, so their classes haven’t been very challenging; and language and cultural differences have made friendships harder than imagined.

There have been several occasions for me, Heidi, and Lincoln, when if we had an out--a way to return to St. Louis and the schools/job and friends we love—I think we would have been tempted to abandon ship. Yet, each recommitment to staying here has helped us redefine happiness and realize that we are stronger and braver than we think. We are supporting each other more as a family--playing games, learning to me more compassionate, flexible, and forgiving, and we’ve been awakened to what a privileged life we’ve led as middle class Americans.

Sometimes it is tempting to think that happiness is in Prego spaghetti sauce or Smucker’s strawberry jam. (Sadly, we’ve learned to hoard. We were wisely counseled, “If you find them on the shelf, buy every jar in sight.”) When favorite foods aren’t readily available (or in the budget), dissatisfaction simply can’t be soothed by chocolate or a smoothie run. We recently gained perspective on the food front from a friend of Heidi’s who said he has eaten some form of rice and rehydrated beans every day of his life for 15 years; to him a meal of pasta was a treat.

When fast internet access is a 30-minute walk (at least we finally got a dial up connect at home a week ago), long distance calls cost 35 cents a minute, and SKYPE voice calls break up (forget video), the thought of heaven on earth isn’t a place or adventure, but the opportunity to talk face to face with a friend. The absence of these “tastes” of heaven has helped me realize that happiness has nothing to do with people, places, health, or things—it comes from loving (even if just sitting in a chair beaming prayers) and seeing God’s presence in the little things. However, it is much easier to understand all the lessons being learned in theory than to live them in practice, and sometimes the bugs swept out of the corners of one’s heart (as well as our living room) aren’t pretty to look at.

There may be “miles to go before I sleep” on our comfy St. Louis bed again and many roads less traveled to explore before driving down I-64 from Lambert International Airport, but as I was out walking again later today…stepping around puddles and protruding rocks in the dirt roads…the mental ground felt holy.

So while I could have written about an amazing horseback ride to a cascading river and natural hot springs (the one touristy thing we’ve done), or our wonderful houseguests from Maine (they brought dark chocolate M&M’s and great hugs), it felt important today to share the rough spots. When all is said and done, I think these will be the meat of our experience for me--not just memories but the substance of who I am and become...mi pura vida!