Browsing Tag

Costa Rica

Cahoots

You do not have to be good.

January 4, 2016

“You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.” – Mary Oliver, Wild Geese

 

You do not have to be good.

I don’t know how many times I have held that line – written by the wondrous Mary Oliver – in my heart.

I’ve started or ended retreats with it. I have whispered it to myself as a mantra during periods of self flagellation. I have whispered it to the breeze, to the wind, and to storms. In the past few months and weeks, it has become a constant companion; a touch stone to remind me of who I really am.

You do not have to be good.

For lack of a better word, the past 15 months have been amazing. I quit my job and we bought tickets. We’ve shed or stored almost everything we own, we’ve moved countries, moved house three times, learned to deal with all kinds of creatures, and very recently bought a piece of land in the jungle.

But you know, as I sit here in the jungle looking out over the Pacific Ocean, I can tell you that the myth of all of the things you’ll do when you magically have more time is complete and utter bullshit.

No matter how much you shed, you always pack yourself. Always.

I have been been so hard on myself since I got here, thinking about all of the ways I am still not good enough.

Good. I just noticed that it’s a four letter word.

“You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.”

Repenting. Yep, I am totally good at that one. 41 years of trying to be good and feeling guilty when I’m not. I’m exhausted.

So I am taking a radical step and not trying to be good in 2016. I’m not choosing any positive, healthy, self-help theme or resolutions. Not. One.

One thing I know for sure is that I firmly believe in magic and in my connection every single moment to the divine (whether I am good or not). The times I have tried to be good, things have turned out okay. The times I have actively played with the magic and honoured who I was? Magic happened. Together we have accomplished more that I could ever have dreamed up on my own. I don’t want more good. I want more amazing.

So my theme for 2016 is going to be Cahoots.

It’s Cahoots because I am moving on through Ms. Oliver’s poem: “You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.”

I’m choosing Cahoots because it feels just a little bit badly behaved. I’m choosing Cahoots because I’m inviting God, the angels, guides, the howler monkeys, the universe and anyone who would like to to play with me. I’m choosing Cahoots because my glorious friend said it sounded like shenanigans.

Cahoots is curiosity and wonder and what if and dirty paws and sunburned noses and ripe papaya and delicious trickster energy. Cahoots liberates me from the shackles of trying to be good, because Cahoots invites in play and the fun and collaboration with delightful souls.

All of the self help books I’ve read said you have to feel good. They don’t say you have to be good. Cahoots is my theme because it makes me feel good.

Cahoots, my friends, is the magic I believe in.

xo

 

 

 

 

the labyrinth

I Am Going to Build a Labyrinth

December 17, 2015

If he is to choose the path of magic then he must choose responsibly, he must know enough about the labyrinth to walk a true path through it. – Neil Gaiman

On Friday I had one of those mornings when you wake up out-of-sorts and a little bit miserable and cry when someone asks you to do something simple like put gas in the car.

Luckily I had a massage booked, so after I stopped crying and put gas in the car, I took myself to Dominical for the morning. Knowing that I was being ridiculous and hysterical, I lay on the massage table and repeated lots of different (and much less coherent) versions of:

I now release all that is no longer serving my highest good.

It wasn’t easy. I kept getting distracted and my nose itched and I tried to figure out which mantra was in the song coming through the speakers, and I spent a long time wondering if the masseuse was using lavender oil.

And then, somewhere around my right calf (she started on my left side), my mind suddenly got very calm. I stopped releasing and twitching and holding back and was very quiet for a moment, and then I had one single thought:

I am going to build a labyrinth.

Don’t ask me why because I have no idea. I just know that I am supposed to do it. I’ve been thinking about doing this ever since we decided to move to Costa Rica. Shortly after we made that decision and I started thinking about it, I looked out of my window at work and saw the picture above. It’s supposed to happen. I’ve talked about it a lot, and we have made sure our land has somewhere that would hold a labyrinth. (I think my husband believed I was going to do it before I did.)

Until now it has been something that was going to happen someday, but as I lay naked on the table, releasing turned into clarity.

I am going to build a labyrinth.

I am. It’s a thing. At the same time as I thought it, I knew with complete clarity that when I start to build it, other people will come and help me. When I start to build it, it will change me in ways that will be both expected and unexpected. When I start to build it, magic will happen.

Last night I got word that we are going to own a piece of land any day now.

I am going to build a labyrinth on it.

xo

Brave

Chicken: The International Language

October 15, 2015

 

san isidro meghan genge

Courage is found in unlikely places. ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

When I was working on my Bachelor of Education, I was lucky enough to do one of my teaching placements at an International School in Singapore. It was my first (and only) time in Asia. I remember getting off of the plane and feeling like I had landed on Mars. The heat was astonishing, and that coupled with the jet lag made everything feel even more foreign than it truly was.

I was also lucky because I got to stay with a very old friend. She and her boyfriend made sure that I had a wonderful experience. But – perhaps sadly – one of my most vivid memories is a strange one.

They decided that we needed to go to Chinatown for dinner. They both had obviously been there many times, so they left me to decide on what to eat while they both bought their favourites. Honestly? It was one of the scariest moments of my life. There were dead cooked things hanging everywhere, stalls were filled with piles of – what? I didn’t know. Different colours, different smells, different languages all tangled around me and I felt the beginnings of a panic attack. I had no idea what to do.

Then, there in the middle of the crazy, stood a very small Chinese man. He looked up at me, smiled, and said, “chicken rice?” I could have hugged him. It turns out he spoke very little other english, but boy did know enough to take care of frightened tourists.

I think about that man a lot. To me, he was an angel. Others would have passed right by him as they excitedly chose something from one of the stalls. Flying on my own to Singapore? Easy. Choosing a mystery meat to eat? Terrifying.

I thought about this again yesterday when we were in San Isidro. A man we know recommended a place for us to go for lunch. It turned out to be inside a covered market. The noise, the smells, the smallness of the space, all felt very overwhelming, but we stayed. We were definitely the only non-locals in the place. We were all staring up at the menu when a man came over – smiled – and looked at me and said, “pollo y vegetales?” Translation: chicken and vegetables? Turns out he didn’t speak very much english either, but again, he knew just what to say.

And he sure made me grin: I’ve come a long way, but it’s nice to know that the angels are still looking after me.

Bravery. Something you may think is easy, I may find terrifying. It doesn’t make my brave any less brave. Getting on a plane, taking a chance, creating the thing, getting out of bed, loving, leaving, staying, dancing, speaking, taking the leap, facing the spider – it all matters, because it’s all brave.

I have learned that if you step into your bravery, the angels appear.

Even if it is just to offer you some chicken.

xo