WEATHERING THE STORM:

Life lessons

awaiting a tropical cyclone

Today marks one month since my departure from the US and my return to Costa Rica. It’s been a whirlwind of experiences so far — some magically beautiful, some scarily dark— all of which provided lessons that led me here: grateful, growing, and a tiny bit closer to rediscovering the home around me, and within me.

It feels good to be back in Costa Rica’s warm, jungle rain and to hear its cacophonous patter on tin roofs. To exchange smiles and “pura vidas” as I walk through town. To start my morning with a heaping plate of rice & beans and fresh fruit, and to let the pace of my day be governed by nothing else but the ocean tides and early sunsets.

Here, I am challenged to slow down and let go—one of Costa Rica’s most valuable lessons, especially for someone like me.

I have always craved structure, stability and control in what happens next. (For all my astrology peeps— yes, I am a Taurus.)  In Boston, this was only heightened by the hustle of city life, the grind of the fitness industry and the “never stop” mentality of entrepreneurship. I lived in survival mode. I felt safe being unsafe.

When I would visit home, it would take me almost my entire trip to adjust, to de-program. To accept that stores may close at random times of the day because they choose to, that the power will undoubtedly cut out with no expected time of being reset, and that (for beach life in particular) nature rules all. I’d finally get to a point where I was able to let go, to regulate my nervous system, to teach myself that feeling grounded, at peace and in flow with the pace of the universe is where I am safest.

But then I’d jump right back into my old life and my false beliefs that the more I could accomplish in a single day, the happier and safer I would be.

So here I am again, unlearning and relearning, and hopefully for the last time.

This morning I woke up with the sun — and not a buzzing alarm clock like I would have before. Win.

I nuzzled my hot cup of coffee and journaled — instead of inhaling the cup as I rush out the door to be at work by 4:30am. Another win.

I then wrote my incredibly unrealistic daily To Do list. — Hmm.

As I said, I’m still learning. But, oh my gawwwd, do I love a To Do list.  In fact, I’ve been making them since I learned to write. My family still jokes at one that read:

1. Wake up

2. Pee

3. Eat a carrot

Honestly, a pretty solid start to any day. But my point is, I’ve always, always, needed structure.

Fast forward 30-something years. The To-Do list I had written out for MY LIFE? Yeah, I lit that shit on fire. (And if you don’t know why — go read my first post). I now have no plan, I have no structure, I have no stability and, worst of all, I have to learn to be ok with that.

So back to this morning.

My eyes scrolled down my lengthy To Do list but then immediately darted to the lengthier list of notifications blowing up my phone. “Emergency Code Red”,  they all started.

They explained that the entire Pacific coast of Costa Rica —and specifically the area I am currently living — is expected to be hit by a tropical cyclone over the next 7 days. I then lost wifi. And then lost power.

*deep breath*

The jungle rain I knew so well had taken a turn these last few days, so there was talk about this occurring. I had listened and packed up all my stuff. But with the recent flooding, road closures and canceled flights, there was no leaving town. My only option was to find a place to stay that was farther from the ocean and in no danger of landslides. I found one. I moved in. I had a plan and I accomplished it.

With shelter, friends on speed-dial and plenty of snacks, there’s only one thing left to do: let go. I can’t reset the fallen power lines. I can’t reconnect the wifi. And I most definitely can’t control a cyclone. So the items on my list will not get done, not today, probably not tomorrow, and perhaps not for the next week as I wait for this to safely pass. All I can do is stay calm in the storm.

And as I continue on this journey of self-discovery and self-trust, I have to remind myself that no matter how much I try to control the uncontrollable, no matter how much I fight against forces stronger than myself, no matter how strongly those ingrained behaviors want me to believe I’m safest in the panic, I am actually, in this storm and in all the others life throws my way, safest, and strongest, in the surrender.