Without All This Ado

Without All This Ado

Check out this blog post from Miss Minimalist-- it really spoke to me this morning...

Today...

I am stemming the tide of "stuff" that surrounds us as we create "home" again
I am dreaming up habits that will serve me to grow in the direction of dreams
I am writing list of the important things, to ensure that they stay present in my mind
I am going to take more clothes out of my closet so that I can feel more space in my life

Is a Monday morning in a new place where I have slept for (almost) 10 days in a row
Is a kitchen table with a cup of coffee in a mug I recognize
Is a to-do list longer than I could ever achieve in one day- and that is OK
Is a window of opportunity that I am choosing to take

I will walk down the streets of unfamiliar White Rock
I will sit down with a friend in support of each others vision
I will get a new library card and recycling bin
I will cut hawthorn branches and put them in a vase on my kitchen window sill

This seeking simple journey continues, with less palm trees and more cloudy skies
With more family and friends, more busyness, more opportunities in the creation of our daily life

This seeking simple journey continues...

Upon the evening before our return...

"The most important thing is to find out the most important thing." - Shunryu Suzuki

or said another way from the movie City Slickers:

Curly: Do you know what the secret of life is?
(holds up one finger] This.
Mitch: Your finger?
Curly: One thing. Just one thing. You stick to that and the rest don't mean s***.
Mitch: But, what is the "one thing?"

Curly: That's what you have to find out.

______________________________

It is 6:30pm in Alajuela, north of San Jose in Costa Rica. We are left with a few hours prior to sleep to tap away at keyboards, side by side, confirming our flights, perusing over journals from the last weeks and savouring the speedy internet connection that allows us to provide this update... We will fly out at 6:25am bound for home.

For the past 6 weeks we have been ensconsed in various forms of community, explores and reflection. It began with a glorious synchronicity that invited us into a small group of international friends (including an Australian Tibetan monk) to share a silent meditation retreat at the beautiful home lovingly created by Daniel at La Candela Retreat , where we got to watch lightning storms and lightning bugs, Resplendant Quetzals and virgin cloud forests. We were cared for and welcomed so warmly to this cozy haven of trees and stillness, plus the super blessings of skilled vegetarian chefs and 4 fabulous yoga teachers! The awe and gratefulness we feel to have had such an incredible time in meditation is H U G E indeed.

We then made our way to Rancho Mastatal environmental learning and sustainable living centre, high on a ridge in the humid tropical jungle. Our 12.5 hour journey to get there covered much terrain, from country side to city centre with a mandatory stop for the standard Costa Rican favourite- rice & beans. In the final bus ride, weaving through moutainous dirt roads past vast cattle pastures, we made friends with 2 little girls- copying each others actions, making silly faces and sharing laughing fits. Finally we arrived at Mastatal- at town with one Soda (restaurant), one bar, a community centre and (of essential note) the organic chocolate farm La Iguana! Our first night we had the pleasure (and slightly spooky 3am jungleness) to sleep on the upper floor of the open air bamboo´Hooch´ treehouse, pictured below:

Our time in Mastatal was full of friendly folks, fantastic food, tonnes of learning opportunities and much brainstorming about our lives to come upon our return. Playing with mosaics, cob building, barn raising, cooking, bread baking, writing, tending gardens, physical labour, big bugs and much more... Our time was rich with mentorship, gratitude and inspiration by a group of folks committed to ´walking their talk´around sustainability and continual learning. Plus we had lots of laughter and FUN!!!

On April 13, one of our final days in Mastatal, I sat down with my journal and wrote the following:

"We will be hugging our people at this time 2 weeks from now. We have been away, been in Central America for 3 months... What are my thoughts so far? Well, lets start with some alternate names for this trip: From NO to YES, 100 Days of Itching, Cabañas´R´Us, Finding Home From Abroad, Remembering-Forgetting-Remembering, I Should Have Learned Spanish, ´Veggies, Rice & Beans´, Vivero (plant nursery) for the Soul, and of course ´Who Knew I Could Like Guacamole More?´

"I am scared and excited to go home. Excited to create new ways to nurture our new roots, fearful of what might repulse me about our culture with these new eyes. I said in one of my facebook updates prior to our departue that this time was about pulling up our roots from familiar ground... in order to experience new ground, chart new territory - where does the light fall, where does the water pool, what flourishes, what wilts? So much fodder has grown up in the crevices over this time, so many plants reveal themselves right under our noses- ready to nurture us. So many tiny seedlings have been observed, nurtured, watered, transplanted. This trip has been a vivero for the seeds of our souls - outside much of what we typically know, do, use to fill our lives for, good or bad. Instead, again & again, we have had to generate our own direction, learned about what to listen for, what to watch out for, what to trust in order to direct us... many times floundering, often wondering: Why? Why here? What is our purpose?

"It had urged me to remember how deeply the river of meaning flows... I have learned-remembered that guidance, direction, purpose, value is almost always found in my perception rather than my actual experience... How am I viewing my experience'? What am I enacting? Can this change- moment to moment? Is this journey primarily a personal one, unique to each of us? Is the journey the same or different, wherever I am?

"Surprise! I did not become a different person through these various adventures. And yet I did too... I stayed with it even when it was hard and I wanted to run. I faced many unpleasant aspects of myself. I tapped more ways to hear myself and ask the important questions. I allowed myself to not have to "figure it all out".

And so... we arrive at the eve of April 25, about to head back to the world we left 3 and a half months ago, now with longer days and new shoots sprouting from the ground. We sit in a cozy skylit gardenside room in the cloud forest, put our socked feet up and ask ourselves "What is our most important thing, our ONE thing?"

Well, of course we had a hard time singling it down to one thing- and I will spare you the extended details here- but the summary that weaves throughout is GRATITUDE... remembering how blessed we are in each and every breath of our lives, learning to be ever more awake to our blessings: our legs that take us up ridges, our mouths that form words of connection, the abundant and resilient Nature that surrounds us, the silences we seek, the creativity that burbles up, the gracefulness of love, the blessings of this surreal time, the friends we have made, and of course the wonderful people we will soon be hugging!

See you all soon and be well! With all our love,

jenn & lee*

Hands

Once upon a city, where pinkies are polished, acrylic nails clack keyboards, and thumbs thumb intangible texts, touch is plastic, digital, artificial.

Now upon the land (of Rancho Mastatal), my fingers find the earth below our busy feet. The fine hair of roots, the symmetrical teeth of leaves, the cool scent of photosynthesis. Digits dig into fertile dirt, where bulbs are birthed and rhizomes rise. My palms hold the rich blood of Mother Earth. The work is raw and tactile, viscous and resonant with ancestral sweat and toil. Each cut and scrape is a needed reminder that our veins are filled by Her. Her bones of clay and skin of grass, scarred by machine and blade, craves the touch that too many fingers have forgotten.

My hands start to remember, what the deep roots, the supple stems, the green blades, and infinite seeds and spores already know.

My hands remember.

Books I Have Read this Year

Crossings by Betty Lambert
My aunt´s book. I read this when I was a teenager, but didn´t grasp all the tangles of sex, relationship and abuse. This is fiction, and yet it is not. Many of my relatives (prior to my birth) are in this. I am astounded by the power and truth in this prose. The writing is genius, in particular the dialogue. Being reprinted this year!

Between Planets by Robert Heinlein
A fun Heinlein juvenile. Starts on Earth, goes to Venus, ends up on Mars. Nothing profound, but plenty of momentum to keep me hooked throughout.

Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck
Read this in a day. My first Steinbeck, with a foreboding sense of the inevitable tragic end. Carefully drawn characters and lots of mood. Fate is a major, if invisible, character. Even with good and simple intentions life can lead one to disaster.

The Stars My Destination by Alfred Bester
This book took me by complete surprise. Initially, I deemed this to be a revenge story set in the future where people can jaunte (ie. teleport). My interest waned. However, by the end my mind was sufficiently blown. This is a crazy book about (mis)perception, hate, love, wisdom and the final evolution of humankind. Strikingly imaginative.

Catch-22 by Joseph Heller
A wild read. Hilarious at times, sometimes infuriatingly repetitive, and a resounding argument about the mad absurdity of war. Laughed out loud without restraint, especially at key dialogue that goes hopelessly round and round and round.

Red Planet by Robert Heinlein
This book annoyed me. It feels like Heinlein got lazy here. A few interesting ideas but it felt like a prep novel for Stranger in a Strange Land. And the ending is somewhat abysmal. After a quick google, I'm not surprised that this was one of his first novels. Henceforth, I have decided to be done with the classic science fiction authors. Asimov, Bradbury, Clarke, Heinlein...I have read them thoroughly in the past, and have also read their best. I love them dearly but am ready for the next chapter.

The Geography of Bliss: One Grump's Search for the Happiest Places in the World (audiobook on ipod) by Eric Weiner
Never listened to a whole book before. An intriguing and often humorous take on how place and society affects our happiness. Iceland gets big points, maybe someday I'll go back. The author also discovers the importance of being creative, close to nature, resisting envy, and being embedded in culture. Yes, I took notes.

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (Original Swedish title: Men Who Hate Women) by Stieg Larsson
Compulsive reading. Sometimes felt like junk food, other times I was too engrossed to stop. Quite violent and disturbing at times. The mystery is told with finesse. The characters were intriguing, especially Lisbeth, though I seldom engaged with them emotionally. Perhaps because of the translation, I resonated much more with the rollicking story than the language of the prose. However, the next time I need a page-turner, I just need to pick up volume 2.

Martian Time-Slip by Philip K. Dick
Philip K. Dick passes the test. I'll still read him, even if he's old. Somehow his writings hold more resonance in the present than many other so-called grandmasters of science fiction. This book is about schizophrenia and society and the prejudices we hold towards both. Recommended.

Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman (currently reading)
This is entertaining. Myth and mayhem and a healthy dose of the bizarre. Not sure how much it will all add up to, but then, this book is about The Trickster, and by definition he is hard to pin down and define.

Weary or Wise? The backpackers' journey

Many people asked me what I was looking forward to the most about this trip. I spoke of treks amidst towering prehistoric ferns, experiencing new cultures and ways of being, constant inspiration for my writing, and rejuvenating my body and soul. But one reason resonated above the others: the sense of adventure. Not knowing where you will sleep the next night or how the hell you are going to get there. Carrying everything you need to survive on your back. Surprises both wondrous and unpleasant. Leaping out of the comfort zones. A discovery of the self.

It wasn't always this way.

When I was younger and dreadfully shy, my parents and I flew to London during, unbeknowest to us, the World Cup. We got off the airplane and suddenly everyone was screaming and jumping around. A bit jittery from the recent 9-11 attacks, we were understandably startled by this display--until we realized Beckham had just won a key game with a late goal kick. The streets were full of revelers, the buses packed, and every hotel booked solid.

We had no reservation. I vowed then and there never to arrive at a place without first planning transport and accommodation in advance.

Now, I prefer the exact opposite.

Sure, it took us awhile to find a place outside London with a vacancy. We also had to engage strangers in conversation to help us find our way, track down the right buses, and slog some miles after a sleepless red-eye flight to reach our out-of-the-way hotel. But when I flopped onto that bed, I experienced one of the best sleeps of my life. It felt earned. There was struggle, but personal growth requires struggle. Change is not something presented on a platter. You sometimes have to suffer for it, and in this way you grow.

Another benefit is that of surprise. Surprise, because of its relationship to uncertainty, can be intimidating. Yet at the same time I have found the most amazing places to stay or explore that--if I stuck to Lonely Planet and arranged everthing in advance--would prove impossible to find. I can think of a lovely guesthouse in Corsica, complete with swimming pool, and run by an elderly couple who endeared themselves to our hearts, that was discovered almost entirely due to my lack of preparation.

That being said, there are times where some pre-planning makes a world of difference. What I try to do is turn the stress of uncertainty into a discovery.

I should, at this point, distinguish vacation from travel. Cruise ships are a good example of vacation. You have your own room, meals are prepared regularly, your transport is, well, never far away. Every need is well tended, which is absolutely fine if such an experience is what you are after. To relax, leave worries behind, and let others stress over the details. And god knows there are days where I´d shell out big cash to rid my soul of stress.

Backpacking travel is, to me, a rather different journey. Struggle and hardship is inherently involved. I realize this sounds masochistic, as though I am eager to suffer. In reality, I am involved in a lifelong search for confidence and fortitude, to emerge from the shelter of shyness. To be a better person one must face challenges, of which travel provides ample opportunity.

This means preparing for some unpleasantness. For me, it's not the actual experience of missing the bus or going to four hotels to find a place to sleep that is stressful. It is my response to these unfortunate events that dampens the spirit. Travel demands patience, tolerance and flexibility beyond your capability. If I can say, "There goes our bus! Let's make a new plan. How about..." then a seed for stress germinates into a new source of adventure.

Of course, if you are hungry and hot and sweaty and exhausted and want nothing more than to curl up into a tiny ball and die, then you are bound to snap. Travel tests you, sometimes daily, often by the minute. These challenges can bring out the ugly, yet it is this tension that--if we are mindful--allows us to discover the hidden parts.

In other words, I try to embrace uncertainty. Not an easy thing for most people. The idea petrified my old self-conscious self, and still terrifies me today. Sort of like the giant cockroach that just emerged over the top of the computer monitor--I had no idea that would happen, could not really prepare for it, and yet I chose to laugh instead of scream.

I am reminded of something my mythology teacher once said about monks. "They have the easiest job in the world. Don't get me wrong. I like the monks. But all they have to do is show up."

A generalization, yes, but one that offers insight. Monks are living in a kind of all-inclusive resort, except they have prayer mats instead of a swim-up bar, and daily prostrations instead of Swedish massage. They have guidelines to follow, a way to exist, a schedule for their routines. You simply adhere to the rules, and you'll be fine. Yet life does not come with a guidebook. The more difficult journey is to navigate through life without the rulebook; or rather, determine your own set of beliefs and guidelines based on experience. The situations where you genuinely don't know what to do, where uncertainty hovers about like a demon on either shoulder, are the chance--I'll borrow a cliche--to build character.

Monks don't have to worry about relationships. Such an enterprise is one of life's most difficult pursuits, and they receive a "get out of marriage free" card. Relationships are work. They require effort, time, and energy, sometimes more frequently than you would like. And yet, a healthy relationship, perhaps because of the effort and challenge involved, is quite possibly life's greatest reward. My wife, at times, can be a source of frustration, yet she is undeniably my greatest source of happiness.

Your partner provides a mirror to the parts of yourself that you like, and more importantly those parts that you despise. You can't choose to hide when in relationship; or I suppose you can, but that means living in fear. Fear of rejection, fear of conflict, fear of being hurt. Fear of being in the wrong relationship. Thanks to previous relationships--all of which taught me key aspects about myself, for which I have my ex's to thank--I have firsthand experience with such fear. With Jenn, I am infinitely blessed in not having to entertain even a kernel of doubt, largely due to our policy of complete openness and utmost respect.

With your partner you get irritated, annoyed, flustered, aggravated and want to scream "Are those cucumbers in the salad? You're insane!" Yet with patience, trust and respect, I have learnt to appreciate this gift that she provides, the gift of insight into self. Murky stuff gets dug out that I might choose to ignore. My choice is to resent her for opening this window, or to recognize that no one else can give me this most precious illumination. Jenn is my best teacher.

A relationship without conflict is, I believe, a serious source of concern, and leads to one of two inevitable ends: failure or complacency. I refuse to accept either. Some simply choose not to engage in relationship. It is, like the monks, an easier path, if a lonely one. The rewards are fewer, while the only one to irritate you is yourself.

When I bear witness to my life, I realize I have blazed forth in stark contrast to how most people venture: the older I get, the more adventuresome I become. By the time I'm 80, I'll be bungee jumping naked. I missed out on some fun early on, yet the more I think about this, the more sense it seems to make for my journey from shy to (sometimes, I'm still working on this) assertive.

Considering that I am currently living day by day with my wife in Central America for nearly four months, there's bound to be some growing pains. But I would have it no other way. With Jenn, I share joy, wonder and the deepest kind of love, as well as the challenges that lead to insight. Relationships and travel are journeys both weary and wise, and the best discoveries are those I never knew existed.

What comes next? Perhaps--and this goes against every controlling instinct in my body--it is best for me not to know.

Portraits of Belize

In our travels in Belize we have come into contact with many diverse characters- so I thought it might be interesting to take a snapshot of some of the people from this unique country to hold them in our memory...

• Karen, the English retiree in a slouchy tank top who owns a homey guesthouse on Corozal Bay
  
• Venky, owner of 'Venky's Kebab Corner' the small Indian hole in the wall with the best Aloo Gobi ever
  
• Chris, the solo traveler with a snazzy camera who took amazing pictures going down the New River
• Ludwig, the friendly vet/poet/artist/carver/landlord who invited us into his unfinished art gallery & tea house in Punta Gorda, telling us stories of his creations and growing up Garifuna in Belize
• Francis, the knowledgeable and passionate vegetarian gallery/museum owner in Dangriga
• Jim & Jacqueline, who moved from Texas to the remote jungle outpost of Barton Creek to raise their family
• Nesh, the shuttle driver, using the back of his beat up Toyota truck to carry people & their backpacks around, who peeled a mean orange right off the tree
  
• Mrs. Guerra, the elderly hotel owner in San Igancio who asked after me each time Lee went out for reinforcements while I was feeling sick
• April at the Snack Shack, raised in Belize who moves fluidly between a clear American accent and a thick musical Belizean Kriol
• Ignacious Gomier Longville, our favourite vegetarian Rastafarian chef, with gray dreads down to the ground
• Will, the tall man who brings in a Mayan family to a local cafe introducing them as his friends, yet clearly trying hard to convert them to Jesus Christ
• Ellie and Leslie, warm and friendly ladies from Nelson, BC who can talk about birds, Belize & "the big stuff"
  
• Ruthie, our adopted Belizean grandmother, a brash and friendly host at her beach side cabanas
• Sabana and Chris, friendly laughing ladies of leisure at Lydia's just off Placencia beach
• Simon and Davog, ambitious longterm jungle volunteers escaped from the UK, trademark headlamps hanging around their necks
• Kathleen, a young volunteer from Washington D.C. diving into intense work with kids in schools
• Howard, the generous village school principal, who gave us a ride after our bus decided to skip the main stop, and shared his perspective on Mayan village life and the relationship with the Garifuna people
• Andy Palacio, the recently passed, but nationally adored Punta Rock artist who is largely responsible for bringing the musical culture of Belize alive on a international level
  

And of course there are the many who we are familiar with but didn't know more in depth or know their stories:

• the small Mayan ladies wearing their brass hooped earrings and hair tied high
• the dread locked wading fishermen and lolling sunset cyclists
• the single mother at the family owned hotel, reviewing spelling homework with her young daughter
• the ex-pat retiree, wearing an American flag sun visor and wildly colorful pant suit
• "Mr. Melvin" who just celebrated becoming a Belizean as announced on the local cafe chalk board
• children on their way back and forth to school - groups on the highway waiting for the bus, whizzing by on bikes, walking in gaggles
• the "sitters" that find shade in any public spot during the afternoon heat and watch the world go by with their friends
• the laughing women in the market stalls searching for fresh fruits and veggies and of course that small town chit chat that comes from knowing your neighbours...

Tomorrow we fly to Costa Rica. We have had a wonderful time here in Belize and will miss the friendly people, the Kriol lilt, bumping along to Punta & Reggae on the old school buses, watching the spectacular sunrises and sunsets, and of course the white bright clouds floating dreamily overhead. Thanks Belize!