The lesson for our last week in Costa Rica seems fitting. Live, with all your energy, your personal legend. If "personal legend" sounds familiar, it might be because it's from Paul Coelho's The Alchemist.
The book was kicking around at the Flutterby, a tipi, yurt, hut, dorm, and tree house sporting hotel near Ballena National Park in Uvita. One night while Rick, Ian, and Tim were surfing and Elisa and I were waiting for the wounds in our boards to dry out,
I picked it up. A few pages in, I couldn't put it down, and the lessons in the book seemed more and more applicable to the blog as I kept reading.
The purpose of the blog, aside from assuring my family that I am safe and happy, was to encourage a no resistance attitude. I never articulated to myself why "no resistance" was so important; now I know. If I am to live my personal legend (however small or large it may seem) I can't be stifled by resistance. I have to take calculated risks, try new things, do the scary things, and persist through the difficult. These are lessons I've learned while surfing, traveling, eating, jumping off and sliding down falls, and meeting new and inspiring people.
The Flutterby had only been open for three months when Rick and I got there. Pam, the friendly and knowlegable owner built the place from the ground up, and now had some help from work-stay traveler setting up more huts and helping her take care of the chickens, dogs, and hotel guests. Pam mentioned that she had been working on the Flutterby for the last year. The sturdy huts, immaculate kitchen, and overwhelmingly freindly atmosphere are just a few hints that her heart and soul is in this place. She cleared the plot of land despite encounters with fer-de-lances (she now has anti-venom in the fridge just in case), she figured out how to navigate the legal system in a foreign country and apply for the correct permits, she hammered in signs along the streets of Uvita so visitors would be drawn to her near-beach front location.
Her hard work is beginning to pay off. In the week we were there, a steady stream of visitors set up camp at the Flutterby, travelers with the surf itch hiked to her hotel to rent boards, she's developed networks with local tour guides and activity guides who provide a daily sampling of things to do for her guests.
I guess it's no surprise The Alchemist would be a book on her hotel library shelf. She is putting everything on the line to reach a personal legend.
Back in wetsuit country, I have to put energy into remembering these lessons, the journey, and the irreplaceable experiences.
Dream big, don't hold back, be ready to be a little scared, take calculated risks, make calculated sacrifices, and surf the big one (or find that sloth).
We all can.
Thanks for reading and sharing this adventure.
Pura Vida!
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Thursday, March 4, 2010
A SLOTH!!!!
... or why it pays to be unabashedly hopeful and excited for something that may not occur.
I have a habit, as I´m sure most people do, of not getting my hopes up. It´s a pretty irritating habit because as soon as I put out a resume, or grad school applications, or turn in a paper, my first thoughts are ¨they´ll never hire me¨, ¨I´ll never get in¨, and ¨that´s the worst paper ever written¨. I set myself up to expect failure so that if I don´t get hired, get into school, or get an awful grade, it´s not as heartwrenching. I think that if by some miracle things do go well, I´ll just be super surprised, and that´s never a bad thing.
However, I seem to carry over the downer attitude even after things don't crash and burn. Because I expect failure, success is framed as a fluke. I got lucky or the task must've been easy. I can't revel in the success because it doesn't feel like success at all, no matter how hard I worked for it
The search for the three toed sloth has changed my mind set.
I was super stoked to see that sloth. Ask Rick. I pretty much talked about seeing a sloth for the whole trip, and have been nonstop about it since we got into Monteverde. If we were going to see a sloth on this trip, this would be the place to see it.
The first day in Monteverde, we spent recovering from the epic bus-wait trip. The second day, we hiked for four hours in the Monteverde Reserve and found many cool animals like the black guan, but still no sloth. We had two full days left, maybe a trip to Arenal on one of those days, and some omiyage shopping and errands to run. I was having my doubts about finding the sloth.
On the third day, we signed up for a night hike through the Santa Elena Reserve. It was sloth or bust. The expert tour guide spotted camoflaged palm pit vipers, crickets, mouse oppossums, humming bird nests, and all sorts of insects. But as the tour neared the end, so my hope for the sloth waned. But it waned only for a moment. I decided right then and there, that by golly I was not going to placate my excitement by telling myself that it has already been a fantastic trip. No, I was going to keep my hopes up, keep my excitement level at a pretty darned high point, because by-golly, I should not be afraid of disappointment. With great expectations, comes risk. I had to be willing to risk disappointment.
And lo and behold, as we were winding down a path, our interpid biologist got word on his walkie talkie of a slot sighting by his buddy.
The three toed sloth, hugging the ficus tree, was as magical as I had hoped. The cuteness factor on this slow relative of the anteater and armadillo is just through the roof. It yawned, licked its lips, and even climbed up the tree as we oggled it. I cannot remember if I have ever been this excited to see a wild animal before, and I am pretty sure that if I had prepared myself for disappointment rather than the possibility of success, that I would not have been that excited to actually see it.
Winnie the Pooh vs. Eyore
The sloth-or-bust attitude is one that I plan to bring back with me from this trip. Instead of thinking that it will always rain, or my makeshift house will always fall on my pinned up donkey tail, I would like to be like the optomistic, honey eating bear. Sure, anything is possible if you put your mind to it and are friendly and happy. And if things do not happen as you expect, then that is okay too. Heck, I know that if the sloth did not magically appear [I firmly believe sloths are magic...ly cute], I would still have thought this has been an AMAZING trip. I would have been disappointed, but I would have moved on, appreciating all the neat things we have already seen [like emerald tucans and orange kneed tarantulas].
Go big or go home. I think this is my new outlook.
I have a habit, as I´m sure most people do, of not getting my hopes up. It´s a pretty irritating habit because as soon as I put out a resume, or grad school applications, or turn in a paper, my first thoughts are ¨they´ll never hire me¨, ¨I´ll never get in¨, and ¨that´s the worst paper ever written¨. I set myself up to expect failure so that if I don´t get hired, get into school, or get an awful grade, it´s not as heartwrenching. I think that if by some miracle things do go well, I´ll just be super surprised, and that´s never a bad thing.
However, I seem to carry over the downer attitude even after things don't crash and burn. Because I expect failure, success is framed as a fluke. I got lucky or the task must've been easy. I can't revel in the success because it doesn't feel like success at all, no matter how hard I worked for it
The search for the three toed sloth has changed my mind set.
I was super stoked to see that sloth. Ask Rick. I pretty much talked about seeing a sloth for the whole trip, and have been nonstop about it since we got into Monteverde. If we were going to see a sloth on this trip, this would be the place to see it.
The first day in Monteverde, we spent recovering from the epic bus-wait trip. The second day, we hiked for four hours in the Monteverde Reserve and found many cool animals like the black guan, but still no sloth. We had two full days left, maybe a trip to Arenal on one of those days, and some omiyage shopping and errands to run. I was having my doubts about finding the sloth.
On the third day, we signed up for a night hike through the Santa Elena Reserve. It was sloth or bust. The expert tour guide spotted camoflaged palm pit vipers, crickets, mouse oppossums, humming bird nests, and all sorts of insects. But as the tour neared the end, so my hope for the sloth waned. But it waned only for a moment. I decided right then and there, that by golly I was not going to placate my excitement by telling myself that it has already been a fantastic trip. No, I was going to keep my hopes up, keep my excitement level at a pretty darned high point, because by-golly, I should not be afraid of disappointment. With great expectations, comes risk. I had to be willing to risk disappointment.
And lo and behold, as we were winding down a path, our interpid biologist got word on his walkie talkie of a slot sighting by his buddy.
The three toed sloth, hugging the ficus tree, was as magical as I had hoped. The cuteness factor on this slow relative of the anteater and armadillo is just through the roof. It yawned, licked its lips, and even climbed up the tree as we oggled it. I cannot remember if I have ever been this excited to see a wild animal before, and I am pretty sure that if I had prepared myself for disappointment rather than the possibility of success, that I would not have been that excited to actually see it.
Winnie the Pooh vs. Eyore
The sloth-or-bust attitude is one that I plan to bring back with me from this trip. Instead of thinking that it will always rain, or my makeshift house will always fall on my pinned up donkey tail, I would like to be like the optomistic, honey eating bear. Sure, anything is possible if you put your mind to it and are friendly and happy. And if things do not happen as you expect, then that is okay too. Heck, I know that if the sloth did not magically appear [I firmly believe sloths are magic...ly cute], I would still have thought this has been an AMAZING trip. I would have been disappointed, but I would have moved on, appreciating all the neat things we have already seen [like emerald tucans and orange kneed tarantulas].
Go big or go home. I think this is my new outlook.
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