TICO TALES
A Life-Changing Mountain Getaway, Costa Rica Style
An awakening
Sometimes a girl just has to get away, even when she already lives in paradise. Those lawn and garden chores, dishes in the sink, grocery shopping and meal planning, laundry—not to mention actual work. Yes, even here on the edge of the rainforest there are still too many things to do.
The only two things I want so desperately to spend more time on are writing and dipping my paintbrushes into watercolors. But when I’m at home, every corner of my house and yard screams at me to “Do something!” Dust, mop, pay a bill, make a quiche, empty the rubbish bin. The creative side of my brain doesn’t have a fighting chance in the face of such relentless nagging.
I needed a disconnect both from the mundane and the unexpected. For example, this morning, packing for a quickie mountain sojourn, I opened the bottom drawer of my dresser and a million red ants swarmed out in panic at having their nest disturbed. Their nest!
Yes, again, ants in my pantalones. So, I stop, empty the drawer into a basket, shake out each piece outdoors, dump all pieces into the washing machine, and continue packing.
Just another day in Paradise.
A mountain retreat
Nothing can deter me from this mini-vacay today! I’m headed for the hills to visit good friends, enjoy some stimulating conversation, drink too much wine, feel that delicious, cool mountain air, and not think about making that job list for Chito, who will be working at my house on Tuesday.
My destination today is a rustic lodge, nestled into the side of a mountain, amidst lush jungle greens, where foggy mountain tops rise above towering tropical trees—a cocoon of tranquility. Yes!
A twisty-turny uphill drive and an hour later I’m here! As I write this, I’m sprawled out on a cushy sofa at the lodge, a rustic nature retreat and birding paradise located close to the Chirripó National Park trailhead. A gentle rain drums on the corrugated rooftop, reminding me of popcorn popping. Bliss.
There are few places around this planet that have that peculiar type of magnetic energy that attracts me. It’s almost visceral. Certain places I’ve been, like Bali, anywhere in New Zealand, Tuscany, the Loire Valley in Central France, and the southern zone of Costa Rica—each has a pull that’s almost irresistible, urging me to return—or to stay forever.
Here in Costa Rica, in addition to this cozy lodge retreat, the region around Ojochal is tugging on me right now, to the point I’m considering buying a place there and moving, again.
I cannot fully explain the attraction I feel for certain places, but there’s one thing they all have in common: very special people, those who enjoy sharing laughter and engaging in deep conversations spanning from future plans to quantum physics to global climate change.
Creative people. People who have done something interesting in their lives besides chasing the almighty dollar. Wise, soft-spoken, caring people who also have a wicked sense of humor.
That moment when life takes a turn
It has been a full year since I arrived in Costa Rica. For most of my life, I had been on the move — 57 full household moves in my life, to be exact—until settling on a farm in the Pacific Northwest for eleven years. During that period, I created something very special there, building an enormous garden, and a beautiful studio, painting and decorating buildings and fences, and leaving an imprint of me.
It was a beautiful creative space that stimulated and nourished me on many levels. But when I had to leave all that behind, I was brokenhearted to leave my creations. I mourned for months, thinking I had left a precious part of myself behind. I felt anchored to that past.
But this night, after a delicious dinner of organic vegetables and a spicy bowl of chili with lots of natilla, we discussed the possibility of my friends selling the lodge and starting a new life somewhere. I asked, “After all these years of making this place a creative masterpiece, with so much of yourselves literally embedded in the walls, how will it feel to leave it all behind?”
My friend replied, “My creations are not what I leave behind. They’re inside me, part of me. And they go where I go.”
His words hit like a bucket of ice water. I felt that “oh-poor-me” heaviness that I had been carrying around pop like a champagne bubble. Of course! Everything I have built, painted, sewn, written, or created in any way remains part of me.
It’s not possible to leave part of oneself behind. How could I not have known that?
Whaddya know! It’s morning already!
This morning, slight wine headache notwithstanding, the sun shines more brightly, colors are deeper, that rough and winding mountain road seems less scary, and I feel ten kilos less burdened with needless regret.
Friends, thank you for hosting me, feeding me, getting me a little bit sloshed, and changing the course of the next decades of my creative life.
Pura vida! Estamos en Costa Rica ahora. Con mucho gusto.
