To believe- The battle of your life

My life is made up
Of a bunch of different beliefs
Some are Hindu, some are Christian
Some are Buddhist, some are Muslim,
Jewish, Catholic, Scientific, Spiritual.
Most of it has to do
With a feeling.
A feeling deep inside of me
That I have carried from lifetime
To lifetime
Something not installed
By the fads of society
Something real and deep
Rising up from the heart
And spreading to my toes and fingertips
Life wildfire
Coursing through your veins.
I used to question life
And religion
When I was a little girl
I would stand at the podium
And stare into the eyes of a thousand desperate souls
And tell them I believed
But secretly believing
I did not.
And that is how I know
That my soul is not new
For she has seen
Other lifetimes
Of heartbreak and destruction
She has endured
Different worlds of love and laughter
Different dimensions
Of war
And she knows
That this is not the beginning
Nor the end
But simply the reason
To pause
And meditate
And call on your inner warrior for help
Because this will surely be the battle
The battle of your life.

10 YEAR ANNIVERSARY

10 years ago today, I woke up for the first time in Costa Rica. I remember the sights and sounds so clearly. I remember the first look my family took at our new home, Cashew Hill. We looked at my mom like, REALLY... you're REALLY doing this to us!? My family has always been a team. Ever since I was little, my brothers have been my best and most loyal friends. No matter what, we could always get through anything together. That's why I knew in my mind without a shadow of a doubt that when we all said we were going to Costa Rica and I threw the idea of college out of my mind in exchange for an adventure in Costa Rica, it was going to be awesome. And when we stepped off that plane for the first time in Latin America and the smell of our new country wafted over us, we knew that our lives would be forever changed. 

A few months ago, I accidentally met (again) the driver who had picked us up at the airport all those years ago. It's funny sometimes how you look at people and think, I know that guy. But I really did know the guy. And when he asked if I knew the family from Cashew Hill and told me he had been our driver in 2003, the memories flooded back to me. I remember how we poured from the airport into the van, and piled our suitcases onto the roof rack. I was sure that we were going to lose all if not half of our remaining worldly possessions that we had packed into two suitcases apiece as they were being throw onto the roof. Our beloved family dog, Coy, was not at all happy about the long flight and then being stuffed back into a kennel for another 4+ hours. We rode in silence for a good part of the way. I think in a lot of ways we were too much in shock to speak. I remember the never-ending winding roads down the mountain, through the rivers, into the jungle. I remember where the paved road turned into pothole road, then the potholes turned to dirt. The foliage got thicker and the driver went faster as we bounced up and down in the micro bus. I'm still haunted by the memory of a bicycle accident (probably with a car) and a group of people huddled around someone... never knowing what happened. First impressions last a lifetime. Finally we reached our street and turned right, passed the soccer field and over the tiniest little bridge, then up, up, up to a big wooden house on a hill. Cashew Hill... home. 

We were greeted by a sight of a man. Brown curly hair flowed down his back as he smiled through his bushy beard. No shirt, no shoes, not a care in the world as he ran down the stairs to greet us. The name Tarzan came to mind and stuck. The house was not much to look at (in the beginning). Tarzan showed us around our new habitat, showed my Stepdad a thing or two about the water system, and then gave us a piece of advice that would will never forget... "When the ants come, you leave." Our eyes widened in surprise and confusion. He then gave us a quick and sparkly Tarzan smile and took off on his bicycle down the hill. (I never, in the 8 years that I lived at Cashew Hill, rode my bike down that hill.) Ants, huh? 

The sun set quickly that first night, as it always does in Costa Rica... 6 o'clock on the dot. The family set off on a trek to town down the very dark, very slippery hill. Mom slid half way down on her butt and then marched back up to change streaming expletives under her breath . It was only slightly funny at the time. We were all a little freaked by the weird noise that sounded an awful lot like a man yelling "Help" from the jungle. Years later we would find out that the noise was really a big owl-like bird. He would hoot "Mom" sometimes too. I remember we went to an Italian restaurant in town. A couple of us ordered Lobster Ravioli... the special ingredient was beetles. Somehow I don't really think those were meant to be in there. After dinner we went walking around and looked for hammocks. Since there weren't enough beds to sleep all of us upstairs we would buy some hammocks to make due. I remember how everything smelled a little funny in town, kinda sour. Everything felt very foreign. There were lots of weird looking guys in town with big hair. Some of them hissed at me when I walked by. Weirdos! 

Later that night I remember I crawled into bed at the tip top of the house in the loft. After a grandaddy Grasshopper (7 inches long, I swear) flung himself onto me while I was on the phone, and taking a shower with a bat as it flew around me in circles while I cried for help, I was convinced that if I was really high up no creepy crawlies would get me. I fell asleep crying and praying that maybe it was really all just a dream after all. There's no place like home. I tossed and turned through the night waking up occasionally to peel off pieces of duct tape that were covering up the holes in the mosquito net. 

I woke up the next morning at 5am as the sun was sparkling out over the edges of the hillside. I remember sitting on a little wooden chair looking out over the garden and crying. This would be our new life. Oh fuck! And then, as I was silently choking out heavy sobs as the tears rolled down my cheeks... THUD! I felt a sort of smack on the back of my hand, looked over and there were two geckos romantically entangled and sprawled out across the back of my hand. I abruptly let out a horrifying, blood curdling yelp and flung them off of me with a smack against the wall. (Sorry!)  It was then that I heard it, the "gecko giggle". It's a noise that the geckos make and, to me, it's always sounded like a mischievous snicker, as if they were plotting against us... "Oh yeah, my poop landed in that dude's Gallo Pinto! 10 Points!" I kind of had to laugh at that sound. And that's when I decided to wipe the tears away and get over it. So what if I didn't have my own bedroom!?! Or my own bed for that matter. And so what if the TV and the VHS player didn't work!?! So what if we didn't own any towels or sheets and we had very little money!?! This was going to be an adventure.

And there it began, the last 10 years and positively flown by. So much has happened, so much has changed. My brothers were 10, 13 and 16 when we first came to Costa Rica. The youngest has spent half his life in this country. I couldn't feel luckier for the experiences that I have had or the people I have met along the way. It has been the adventure of a lifetime!