CHARLIE

And so I return from my year-long hiatus. I almost forgot I had a blog! No, scratch that lie— I fully remembered. I remembered approximately once a week when I would contemplate writing something, come up with a great idea, develop it partially, and then abandon the idea altogether. The fierce battle with perfection continues but this time I will overcome it. This time I will write with all my heart and post with reckless abandon because I am learning that there is no greater threat to creativity than this fear and obsession with flawlessness. And I refuse to be defeated any longer.

To be honest, life has been a rollercoaster lately (as always, no?). I constantly switch off between loving everything and feeling rather “blah.” One day I’m excited about planning classes, feeling confident with my Spanish, adoring teaching, and appreciating this amazing opportunity to live in Spain. The next day, I’m content just to get by on the bare minimum. I’m dreading classes because I lack enthusiasm and I’m living in constant anticipation of the mythical “tomorrow” that never comes. 

To put this into perspective for you, let’s just say I was on the gloomy side of that equation when I got the news that has changed everything. Among all my regular ups and downs, a bit over a week ago I was skyping with my mom and my dog when I noticed that Charlie was moving a lot slower than usual. He’s an old guy so it’s not that surprising, but his lack of a smile or any sign of excitement at hearing my voice was. “Hey! What’s up with Limpy McGee?” I jokingly inquired. Not that “Limpy” is a common nickname for my friend, but he was limping and in my family we just call it like it is— the more insulting, the better. My mom played right along.

“Well, Limpy McGee hasn’t been doing so well,” she explained with a strained smile. She continued to tell me that his legs seemed to be bothering him and that she planned to take him to the vet to get it checked out the next day. And that was it. The exchange was short, almost inconsequential, and not at all the focus of the conversation. But something in the way that she was guarding it told me otherwise. I still can’t pinpoint why, but in that moment I could sense the concern in her tone and the urgency behind her limited response.

It reminded me of being in Costa Rica when I found out my grandpa was in the hospital. At that point, my parents weren’t extremely concerned—a trip to the hospital was in no way routine, but it also wasn’t grounds to expect the worst and start considering coming back. But, for some reason, I knew as soon as it happened that it was a serious situation. For some reason, I could sense the gravity. And it was same with Charlie Brown.

I don’t usually follow up on events the very next day after a skype session, but that Monday I did. I checked in on my Limpy McGee and, again, my mom’s terse replies seemed to confirm the answer my intuition was giving me. I could tell it was coming and I was starting to prepare myself for the upcoming days, weeks, and months of knowing things were getting worse and eventually having to say goodbye to my best friend. What I could never be prepared for, however, is that the very next day heaven would have a new angel.

The sweetest, sincerest, most loved angel of all. Heaven has been blessed in this acquisition, but it hurts so much because those of us here have forgotten how to function without him. Charlie is our everything—our baby, our nurse, our protector, best friend, child, brother, true love. 

Years ago, I was lucky enough to be born into a family that was already complete with a dog and having Jake by my side as a child meant so much. He was a wonderful guardian who shaped my values and helped me to grow into the person I am today. Losing him was the first major loss I experienced and it hurt incredibly. Still, I know he continued to be with us because later that year he sent us Charlie Brown and our lives haven’t been the same since.

The difference that makes this loss feel even more difficult is that Charlie has seen my family through so much more. Personally, life before twelve was infinitely less complicated than life after twelve. Charlie has been at my side through all of my big moments and major decisions. Charlie has talked me through it all. We have travelled together. We have gone on adventures together. We have cried together when situations felt insufferable. And we have then jumped into the car to go eat ice cream by ourselves when it was clear that there was no other answer.

Charlie taught me how to live for myself and how to live for something much greater, all at the same time. He taught me how to appreciate life through the bumps and bruises and how to experience beauty in the everyday. I truly believe that dogs are God’s greatest gift to us. They live so simply in the fact that they are not distracted by jealousy, greed, vanity, or distrust. They love wholly and unconditionally. And because of this “simplicity” they can recognize and react to the most complex of human emotions in the most needed ways.

It’s no surprise to me that petting a dog is a scientifically proven way to calm down and relieve stress. I’ve experienced it so many times, it is all I long for in moments of distress, and it hurts my heart that he’s no longer here to be that for me. At the same time, I know that his love lives on. I see it every day in the random dogs on the street who seem to stop and smile at me in particular. I see it in the kind way my roommate’s dog checks on me throughout the day and nuzzles into me when he can feel the emotions swelling in my throat and the moisture making its way to my eyes. 

I was blessed not only with the thirteen years I got to spend with Charlie but also with the lifetime of understanding, comfort, and confidence I’ll now have because of him. And for that I am forever grateful. I love you, goodest good boy. May you run wild and swim free. 

RAMBLING

My mom recently asked me if I’d been writing anything lately and I was quick to respond “no,” soon followed by a resolute “I just don’t have anything to say.” And that’s how I’ve felt for most of the past three months. From time to time, I would get a great idea or feel inspired by an article I read or something I saw on TV. I would feel a glimmer of hope that a conversation or a thought would transform into something interesting and worth sharing. But, undoubtedly, the desire to dedicate more time to developing it was never there a few days later and the “worthiness” of the insight quietly faded from my mind. 

But this time I’m committing myself to following through—because it’s not that I don’t have anything to say. It’s that I don’t feel like I have anything worth saying, anything that’s not melodramatic and depressing, anything that hasn’t already been said before, anything that I can be viewed as an authority on. I take pride in being adventurous, independent, and optimistic rather than realistic. I’m all about following your excitement, chasing your dreams, and living an impassioned life. But I don’t feel like I’m doing that right now. Most days I don’t feel like I can give advice that I’m actually following. So what kind of hypocrite is still gonna write up a blog post telling you to be that way anyways?

Well, I guess THIS kind. Because I still believe in all that stuff. I still believe the risks are worth it. I still believe you should step outside your comfort zone. I still believe you should be kind and open-minded to people who are different from you. I still believe you should release that which is not serving you. I still believe you should appreciate everything you have and take pride in that which you have worked so hard to achieve. And I even still believe that if “that which you have worked so hard to achieve” is no longer meaningful and fulfilling to you, then you should move on to something else that is. 

And I know that that’s all easy for me to say—I’m recently out of college, usually gallivanting the world, working to make just enough to get by, and otherwise ignoring financial responsibilities for “the time of my life”. You may think that’s stupid and, who knows, maybe someday I’ll agree. But I don’t think so. Because in my “gallivanting” (or constant rebuilding of my life in new cultural contexts, however you wish to see it) I’ve had the opportunity to meet so many amazing people. Inevitably, the vast majority of those people inspire me and remind me that what I’m trying to do is exactly right. 

So I may not be doing all that I wish to do right now, but that doesn’t mean I’m in some woeful crisis either (contrary to half my thoughts on a daily basis). Admittedly, I feel more joy and pride when I’m living a life that is ambitious, challenging, and admirable. Still, that doesn’t mean I should put myself down for every moment in which I don’t feel like a hundred bucks. 

Unfortunately, we live in a world of constant comparison and judgment. So much so that we are often the first one to cast judgment upon ourselves “for the way others will see us”. Ironically, I doubt all that many people are critiquing us as harshly. Either way, I don’t think we were meant to live our lives in the comparative.  I’m personally far more intrigued with the interrogative—why am I doing this/feeling this/seeing it this way? What do I hope to accomplish? And what’s next?

I’ve been so hesitant to write a blog post these last few months because I don’t know the “right things” to say. And I feared it may come out “all over the place”—like this post is proving to be. But the truth is that I’ve been a scattered person lately and so that simply may not be avoidable at this place and time. I could address everything that’s causing me to feel that way but in doing so I always feel like I’m merely stewing in self-pity. Which is pathetic, because so many people are dealing with much worse on a daily basis and not batting an eyelash over it.

My life is filled with so many incredibly strong people. And so I want to make a shout-out and thank all of you. Honestly, I probably don’t even know the half of what most of my friends and family are going through, but you inspire me regardless. From cancer to depression to alcoholism to eating disorders to old age and everything in between. From the people who suffer in silence to the people who are there for others throughout everything they’re battling. I salute each and every one of you who faces these struggles head-on and who share your strength with others.

We’re all fighting a million battles a day, whether we recognize them or not. Everyone is on their own journey and while we may invite some people along for a stroll, we usually journey the hardest parts alone, on the inside. As much as we may think we do, we don’t truly know where anyone else is coming from or where they’re going. So be kind. Be patient. Be loving and forgiving. Listen when someone seeks you out. Listen harder when they don’t. We’re all coping in our own odd ways, just like we all succeed in our own odd ways. 

We’re all human in the sense that we have our good days and our bad. We’re blessed when we have someone to listen to our sad news and to celebrate the good. There’s nothing wrong with needing time to collect yourself, to reflect on things, to figure it all. I think the point at which it goes wrong is when we allow ourselves to continue to stagnate, to stop challenging, to become apathetic. But as long as we don’t abandon our values and give up on our goals, we will find our way back to them—regardless of how pointed or rambling we feel our path is. And I am rambling now, haha… but I’ll find my way back.

ALIVE

This past Sunday, I woke up at 3:45am to catch a bus that would take me to a wonderful little beachtown 4.5 hours away from San José. According to everyone I talk to in Costa Rica, Puerto Viejo doesn’t hold a candle to the beaches in Guanacaste or Puntarenas but, in my opinion, it was a breathtaking, perfect paradise.  

To be honest with you, I spent the last week of my life in a financial freak-out. Although nothing had drastically changed, I finally took the time to update my spending log, actually pay attention to my dwindling bank account, and consider my measly paychecks. Then I did a preliminary flight search and was overwhelmed to find that a plane ticket to come back in January will be substantially more costly than it was in September. I suppose it makes sense—Americans are far more likely to want to get away in the middle of winter than in the early fall—I just hadn’t considered it before. So, taking that into account, atop other psychological unrest I’ve been feeling lately, I decided it was time to go to the beach.

That may not sound like the most logical solution to some of you. But, for me, I knew nothing else would fix everything the way that sunshine and salt water would. I really needed some time to myself—to clear my mind, to recharge, and to really think about what I’m doing here in Costa Rica and if I truly should buy my plane ticket back. Up until this week, I had really never considered otherwise. My life planning still happens in terms of “school years”—last year I was in Granada, this year I’m in Costa Rica— so that was simply settled through June.  And it totally would have remained that way if I wasn’t leaving for the holidays. 

Because I’m not in a dire situation; I make enough to get by and I’m sincerely happy with the academy I work at and with the family I have found here (which makes my living expenses incredibly more affordable). However, I have no expendable income. I barely ever travel (because of money and schedules), so I’m not really exploring the beautiful country I live in. And there’s a nagging voice in my head that constantly compares my life here to what it was in Granada— where I made much more money for much less work, had an incredibly better work schedule allowing for plenty of time to travel, and the cost of living was magically low. All that considered, I think it would be a rather economically irresponsible choice to buy a plane ticket back.

So, if you know me, I think it’s rather obvious what comes next… I’m gonna buy another ticket. Not because all those things don’t matter, but because other things matter more. What matters most is the way I felt on Monday… 

I had decided to stay at a yoga hotel (that was part of the reason I chose Puerto Viejo for my retreat in the first place) so my Monday morning kicked off with an hour and half yoga class, my first (non-You-tube) class ever! I didn’t even realize it was that long until I got back to my room and checked my phone. Lately, I haven’t even been able to get through a 45 minute video without quitting but there—in that environment, with real people practicing alongside me—it wasn’t difficult at all. 

Then I hit the beach! Unlike the day before, I didn’t fool around with the crowded touristy area to the right of my hotel but instead took off to the black sand beaches on the left. I had decided to walk and walk and walk till I didn’t want to anymore, then settle down on a nice patch of secluded sand. And I did just that! I walked for about 40 minutes and there was still endless shoreline to travel but I decided to lie down already and fully take advantage of the sun while it was high in the sky. 

My spot was perfect. I had walked so far that it was turning into less-black sand again, but there was not another soul in sight and I felt positively wonderful about that. During my two days in Puerto Viejo, I couldn’t stop thinking of one of my Pinterest quotes: “When you feel like quitting, think about why you started.” I knew that I was taking a little get-away to have some quiet time and really think things through, but I hadn’t given much thought to how much those days would serve as a reminder of why I started, why I came to Costa Rica in the first place.

It was never about the money. It was never about the certainty. And it was about the teaching, but it also wasn’t about sitting in my room in Coronado and not taking advantage of the fact that I’m in a beautiful country that has a lot to offer. So what if the trip was extra money spent when I was so worried about finances? Those two days aren’t gonna break the bank and the invaluable part—the reason why travel is the only thing you can buy that makes you richer—is how I felt on that beach.

Because being there, alone on the beach in a corner of the Earth I have never explored before, in a country I had never imagined traveling to until recently, playing in the breaking waves and laughing—truly laughing to myself—I had never before felt so alive.

I never realized how involuntary the laughter is. Sure, I’ve played in the ocean plenty of times before, but there have always been other people around, so I guess I always attributed the laughter to that. When you’re jumping up and down alongside someone, the shared laughter seems like the polite thing to do; it’s more an agreed upon way of acknowledging that you’re enjoying yourself and the experience you’re sharing. Without anyone else there to be on the receiving end of my giggling, I didn’t expect there to be any. But there was. It came so naturally, I was almost caught off-guard as the chuckles escaped my lips. And you would think you’d feel a little stupid standing in the ocean, laughing at yourself. But I didn’t at all! For one of the first times in my life, I was experiencing something beautiful and true and important and there wasn’t anyone else around to share, judge, or tarnish that. 

It was magical…and empowering. Because I can’t remember the last time a moment felt completely and utterly FOR ME. I was the creator, the actor, and the audience…and the only one. I always thought it would feel very lonely to travel alone and not have anyone to share the memories with (and I still think it’s something I would struggle with if the travel was for an extended amount of time), but during those couple of days it felt so freeing not to have to share, not to have to consider anyone else’s feelings, not to have to tell anyone of my plans. Because of my lack of phone service, there was not a person in the world who knew where I was for sure... and that felt so right. 

I was Dani: girl off in the world on her own, with no direction home, like the sweet unknown; genuine free spirit and traveler.  THAT is me!! That is when I feel at my truest; that is what it’s all about. Because my wish last year for my 23^rd birthday was to feel 22 forever. And not just because T-Swift’s song is catchy, but because 22 was an incredible year for me—filled with new insights, passion, curiosity, and wonder—and I never want to let go of that! I always want to feel that inspired and that connected with my true self and I want to always trust my path the way I did when I was 22.

And this weekend I felt that way again, after a long time of not feeling it (okay, by a “long time” I’m talking a matter of about 5 months, but the point is significant nonetheless). It’s amazing what the ocean can do for me. Seriously, my heart just sings when it can hear those waves. And my lungs breathe happily when they’re taking in ocean air. My body radiates when it’s covered in a light layer of salt and sand. And my lips can’t help but form a smile when I’m in my place! Regardless of what body of water I’m wading into, whether or not I’ve ever been to that specific place before, when I’m sitting on the beach, I am home—wholeheartedly, spiritually, physically, emotionally I AM HOME. And I’m grateful to be cognizant of that.

So, I’m grateful to myself for understanding want I needed and taking the trip last weekend. It truly put things into perspective and helped me evaluate from a calmer angle. Everything is going to be okay.  As long as I am able to live and work here in a way that I am passionate about, that is reason enough to invest in this endeavor. I didn’t put pressure on myself to have the money upfront when I bought my ticket to Spain and yet I came home with a little extra that more than covered that start-up cost. Things will work themselves out in the end.

I’ve already talked with a handful of people about other options and friends have suggested teaching on-line and freelance writing options that would be incredibly helpful and doable. And a number of those opportunities truly presented themselves; it didn’t even feel like I had to look for them. That is called manifestation. That is the power of me putting out the energy of my true desires and the universe providing me with solutions. I used to feel “lucky” that that happened but now I understand that it is not mere luck. It is something I have been dedicating myself to through my life choices and therefore I am worthy of the results. 

Listening to your heart and following your passions isn’t always “smart” or “responsible” but I truly believe that it can still be successful. I can make it work because what I want is aligned with my true self and my true purpose and what God (or life source or universe or whatever you wish to call it) wouldn’t want to help me with that? I’m feeling at peace. I’m feeling impassioned. I’m feeling worthy. And I’m feeling alive.