Following the morning’s walk along the beach, I prepared more of the Mahi that was left in the fridge. An entire length of Mahi goes a long way for one person. I proceeded to eat the equivalent of four fillets which would have cost top dollar in any nice restaurant in the U.S. I felt a great sense of satisfaction in that. I am still not quite confident about washing my dishes after fish with cold water from a spigot, but that seems to be how they do it in Central America. I was assured it was safe.
I am doing well in weaning myself away from email and connectivity, at least for days at a time. It’s like I have pulled myself out of a video game everyone is still playing. Naps seem to constantly beckon me here….siestas.
Today was delivery day for the vegetable truck. This means the truck goes to the nearby cafe, at which point Grace the waitress calls me via Whatsapp and relays in Spanish that they have arrived. I then have to quickly grab my backpack and walk down the dirt road to the restaurant to pick up my order, which means that I have to be at home on wifi when she calls.
This morning she called.
So I grabbed my backpack and rushed over to the restaurant.
There was no truck.
Once again I was reminded that there is no need to rush for anything here in Costa Rica during the rainy season. Time doesn’t move. Grace tells me the truck will probably come in about 30 minutes. Keep in mind this is Tico time. So I decide I will walk to the beach and come back.
After taking my groceries home, 16 eggs, 6 bananas, 4 apples, 3 mangos, 3 avocados, I walk down the beach to bid farewell and offer gratitude for this day. The sun slowly meets the edge of the ocean. I send love and good energy to those I care for by name. It is barely 6pm.
The day began with the sun at 5:30am and gave 12 hours today without rain. Time seems endless here. Once the sun goes down I am already thinking of sleep.
And so I write and read about The Old Man and the Sea before quietly drifting away to my dreams.
Every other week during 2023 I will be posting an excerpt from my upcoming book, Five Thousand Steps: A Rainy Season in Costa Rica. It is a travelogue of sorts, my journals and observations from my initial three months in Costa Rica along the Guanacaste Coast. I hope you enjoy following the journey.
Please send a request by email if you would like to pre-order your copy of the book which will be self-published and released in 2023. Please also consider supporting the release of the book by become a paid subscriber or a donor.
Field Notes
Most people, even though they don’t know it, are asleep.
They’re born asleep. They live asleep.
They marry in their sleep.
They raise children in their sleep.
They die in their sleep without ever waking up.
They never understand the loveliness and the beauty of this thing that we call human existence.
You know, all mystics no matter what their theology, no matter what their religion—are unanimous on one thing:
That all is well, all is well.
Though everything is a mess, all is well. Strange paradox, to be sure.
But, tragically, most people never get to see that all is well because they are asleep.
They are having a nightmare.
-Anthony DeMello
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Zen and Ink Journals represents hundreds of hours of writing over the past decade, sometimes from a train in remote China or a coffee shop in Kyoto, a hammock in Costa Rica or a simple cabin on a mountaintop in Boquete, Panama or Ciudad Colón.
On these pages, I share my observations of kindness and beauty from my adventures in the world and invite you to listen quietly for the call within you to explore the places that beckon your soul.
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