Howler Monkeys growl—it’s a low guttural roar that makes it feel like there is a beast in the jungle just waiting to pounce on the next unsuspecting, innocent person that makes their way into the trees and shrubs that dot the lush land. This is Costa Rica. The mornings start early here; 5 am is the sun’s call time while it punches out for the day around 6 pm; 13 hours to carry out whatever needs natural light to be accomplished. If a person requires an alarm to rise at 5 am, the Howler Monkeys are a perfectly suitable replacement for the modern version of an alarm clock. They call loudly, signaling the beginning of a new day on earth while they traverse from tree to tree looking for their morning breakfast. It’s fascinating to watch them eat as they seek out the biggest mangoes they can find, take one bite, and then toss the wasted fruit to the ground to again forage for the next piece of fruit. Sometimes these monkeys take special effort to toss the fruit at some poor soul that is camped out below enjoying the hot Costa Rican sun. This seems to be a game for the Howler Monkey.
An hour can pass in an instant, witnessing all the wildlife in the jungle moving seamlessly, perfectly orchestrated as if this were some divine matrix—and it is. There is evidence of this everywhere in the land of Pura Vida. Time is different here in Costa Rica—it’s slow and deliberate however it passes in an instant which makes it both paradoxical while at the same time making perfect sense. Miracles happen here if we can only get out of the Universe’s way for the magic to manifest.
Tico at Heart: Costa Rica on My Mind…
Adi and I have talked of coming here for quite some time. Life seemed to happen on several occasions that forced us to cancel trips in the past, but this time we made a commitment to get here. Something inside both of us instinctively knew that this spiritual portal would resonate with us, and it has. Our only question is: How do we stay? How do we say goodbye to our old life that simply doesn’t seem to fit us any longer?
I never imagined I would become an ex-pat. It seemed like a romantic yet ever-elusive fantasy that could never happen. These types of things were meant for the likes of Hemingway or Picasso, but not some kid from Iowa. This is the bewitchment of life; just when you think you have it figured out the impossible happens and your wildest fantasy comes true. Adi and I have met wonderful friends here on our short stay in Costa Rica. These friends seem like we have known them for ages.
We met Dia and Sissy who surfed with our son and then invited us to visit them in Greece where they promised show us around the very best parts of Athens; Ashley and Jordi opened up their home to us and invited us to stay with them as if we were long-lost relatives who dropped into town for a quick visit; Todd from England who studied with master teachers in the Himalayas and is now on a quest to find spiritual enlightenment (if I were a betting man I would say he will make it); Paul who is an ex-pat American who dropped his old life and bought a house in Santa Teresa, all because Costa Rica spoke to his soul; Seth, who incidentally grew up in the same small Texas town as Adi where we currently live, came to Costa Rica to heal both physically and spiritually and now wants to help others to heal as well. The list goes on.
In a nutshell—these are our people. It feels so purposeful here. To understand Pura Vida, it must be experienced. People of all shapes, colors, religions, and countries come together to savor what life is really about—playing soccer on the beach, horseback riding, surfing, meditating, drinking a beer or a glass of wine while watching the sunset, or just strolling down the beach with their feet in the sand. Yes, people work but work is not their life. Work is simply the means that allows them to live life—not the other way around.
This is a poorer country, but you wouldn’t know it from watching the people. People seem genuinely content here. Where in America we strive for material possessions, here in Costa Rica nature provides the entertainment for the Ticos (Costa Ricans call themselves this). Adi and I were only here a few days when we quit wearing shoes. This wasn’t completely by choice; our shoes were lifted from us when we left them on the beach for our morning stroll—they vanished into thin air, never to be seen or heard from again. We were warned that whatever was left on the beach would be taken, but neither of us thought that $9 water shoes would be a “top find” for someone on the beach; we were wrong.
See Our Friends in Costa Rica!
Our new friends told us, “It’s not personal. It just a way of life here. Finder’s keepers, losers weepers…”. For our part, Adi and I were happy to “gift” someone our shoes; obviously someone needed them far more than we did. We got a gift of our own in return—we began walking barefoot in the sand. We felt like we got the better part of the trade.
So many magical things have occurred since we first arrived here in the land of Pura Vida. We have met friends we will keep for life. We have been inspired by people who are interested in serving mankind and making for a healthier world physically, mentally, and spiritually. In Costa Rica, striving takes a back seat to living. Serving seems to be a way of life. Community is valued: people openly hug on the beach, share laughs, and genuinely interact with far less cares than other places we have been. Costa Rica feels like home and when a person is lucky enough to find their home, there is no place else to be.
Sat Nam!
