Ripples and Flow

It is safest to cross where there are ripples.

That’s what the locals tell us. Then you know how deep the water is, so the car doesn’t go where it will later regret. Bridges are too costly to maintain in Costa Rica, and they would get washed away in the wet season. Bridges are not sustainable. Flowing with nature is.

The Ticos (Cost Ricans) are very connected to nature, their life is about going with the flow. I’m tuning into that energy here, and I still stand out like a sore thumb American. We have been so acculturated to be “on guard”, having to “do” vs “be”, to watch the clock and worry about all sort of things. Do we believe that if we worry it won’t happen? An interesting belief….

I worried about Jason; I didn’t want him to suffer. I now see all that energy was wasted. He didn’t suffer, that’s true, he died instantly. I suffered much less than I could ever have imagined; I am so grateful for my processing tools and trust in Source. Of course, I never imagined my son would die before me – what parent would want to imagine that?

Jason always told me not to worry – he would have made a good Tico. I see his photographs everywhere – from the peaceful beige Brahman cows to the animated tree life to the scraggly wood and coral treasures to the comical hermit crabs showing off their shell garments to the windy worm-like patterns in the sand that are messages to us from another world.

Cool.

That’s the dialogue I would have with Jason about this type of experience. What else is there to say? It is what it is, and it feels magical.

I’m finding myself suspended, unable in some strange way to lift my camera to capture a view. The view is beautiful by most standards, but it is not about the view. It’s about the feel. How can I capture this warm tropical breeze cooling me under the shade in a treehouse overlooking the turquoise waters? Can the sound of the waves be captured in a recording the way I hear it now? How can I capture the feel of adventure in our 4WD crossings and kayak crash on the island beach?

And what about the ripples? I felt small waves of grief overcome me as I settled in to this paradise spot. What the hell am I doing here, I thought? I would trade this in a millisecond to get Jason back in my life.

I felt some passing pangs of guilt thinking about how I used to want more freedom to travel, to not have to worry about Jason, my business, the house, the cats, and all of those things I feel responsible for. Now Jason and Nala (my cat) are gone. My second cat Annapurr is with her dear auntie Liz, my house is being taken care of by loving friends, and I am delegating all of my business activities (for the first time!) to a trusted colleague and friend, Fiona.

I experienced a magical flow yesterday sitting under a waterfall, watching my tears mingle and flow with the jungle waters, letting the mother earth energy hold me as I surrendered to the grief. I had nowhere to go in this remote place but with what was right there – my sadness, my awe, my gratitude, my wondering, my connection with the divine spirits that talked to me through the babbling waters.

The land at Finca Las Brisas (a sustainable community under development) has wonderful energy and I like the developers (Al reminds me of my brother Al), and I am impressed with what they are creating, pioneers in a new way of building (off the grid, solar, with minimal roads and footprint and water year-round). This is what we have been looking for, and yet I tune in and it is not yet time to make big decisions. I sit in the ripples, I talk with the local gringos and Ticos, I watch the sun set every day.

Wow – I am crossing through the ripples and I am safe and I am free – to be me.

I’m getting into this Tico thing.