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.

BABY STEPS

It has been exactly a month since I showed up in a brand new country, met a complete stranger at the airport, and then indefinitely moved in with an incredible Costa Rican family. Although my wheels have been turning everyday of this whirlwind of a journey and I have been taking more time than ever before to journal about my experiences and emotions, I haven’t felt like I had anything worth blogging about.

Scratch that. That’s the way I’ve been phrasing it, but I know that’s inaccurate. What I should really say is that these past weeks have been an emotional rollercoaster. One day I was hopeful and optimistic about a great job opportunity, the next I was sullenly looking through hundreds of completely unappealing job postings. One minute I was reprimanding myself for being a spoiled, single-minded gringa who isn’t willing to consider other options. The next moment I was reminding myself that I came here with a purpose—to teach and truly interact with the tico people, not sit in a call center answering telephone calls—and so it’s important that I stick to those principles. Through teaching, I know I can really utilize my gifts and have an impact on people and that’s what matters.  

Basically, I haven’t maintained one emotion or perspective for longer than a few hours; I certainly didn’t feel ready to sit down and blog. I didn’t have anything upbeat and inspiration to say (at least not that I still felt the next day when I had time to write). And I don’t consider myself to be a negative person so a downtrodden woe-is-me post was not what I had in mind— especially since I am incredibly blessed to be living in this country, soaking in a new culture, and growing in all sorts of new ways.  

So all that being said, I’m going to be frank with you— I have felt frustrated over the past month. I have felt lost in this dialect that is close to the one I’ve studied for the past 10 years, and yet didn’t feel the same at all. I have second-guessed my decision to come here, my ability to find a job, and my blind ambition overall. But I think I finally have a lasting response to all of that: baby steps.

It’s not a new concept, but it’s something I struggle with. I am used to things falling quickly into place. I am used to finding success with little obstruction. I am used to being the “perfect candidate” for the internships and programs that I desired and therefore being offered a position. But we can’t always be perfect. I can’t speak for everyone, but I know that my life hasn’t followed a clear, one-track path to a specific goal. Sure, I can go back and arrange my experiences on a resume in a way that makes it look intentional, but for the most part it was not. I pursued what excited me in the moment and I am so glad that I did. But the result is that I have dipped my toes in the waters of many different pools instead of honing my skills in one particular area.

It doesn’t mean I’m not a great candidate to teach English here, but it means that I need to be humble and accept the fact that while my experiences have been relevant, they are not exactly what most employers are looking for. Working with Spanish-speaking people during my summer internship, reading to bilingual kindergarteners in Spanish, and teaching science classes to elementary school students in Spain are all helpful building-blocks but they do not mean that I am ready to jump into a structured, adult-level English course where no Spanish is spoken.  Sometimes we just have to admit to ourselves that we are not perfectly ready yet and graciously accept the assistance that others may offer us. 

That has been the case for me over the past few weeks. When I first found out about the New Learning Academy it seemed perfect— a professional language academy with a welcoming, friendly vibe located in a town closer to where I live than San José and (unlike everywhere else I had visited) they were currently hiring! My interview was set up within days and it went so well that the English Director was scheduling me for the teaching demonstration before I even left the interview. The day of the demonstration, however, didn’t go as smoothly. It wasn’t a disaster, but it also wasn’t perfect.  Accordingly, I was not surprised the next day when the director called me and explained they had decided to give the job to someone who had more experience working with adults. 

 I was surprised, however, to hear that they still wanted me to come in and do some training! Even though I felt like I blew my chances during the demonstration, they still saw something they liked in me. They saw my potential. They acknowledge that I wasn’t the teacher they wanted—yet— but after a few baby steps, I could be!

I am incredibly grateful for the confidence they had in me and the time that has been invested on both ends because now I’m more aware of my teaching strengths and weaknesses and I feel far more comfortable standing in front of a group of adolescents. Above all, I am now employed!! It’s not a full-time gig, but I have 3 classes to start out. Again, just a small step but it’s what I need. This is all a new experience and I actually think I would be overwhelmed if a full-time teaching job were thrown at me. This way, I can learn the ropes and take the baby steps to become the teacher I want to be.

Baby steps take patience on everyone’s behalves. My academy needs to understand that my training is an investment that won’t turn me into the perfect teacher overnight, but will have lasting results. And I need to take my time and not get frustrated with myself if I give a less-than-perfect lesson, knowing that it will only help me plan a better one next time. 

It’s taken me a week to put this entry together and I’m still not feeling so enthused about it. I had all these great analogies to make—how “baby steps” has literally proven to be the answer to my frustration during yoga practice and how I have a Daddy Longlegs spider friend who has been patiently growing new legs since I discovered him with only 3 about a week ago. But for some reason, my normally creative mind simply isn’t intertwining them the way I would like. So I’ve decided to simply wrap up the entry as it is, with this reminder as to why it is okay that it isn’t perfect and is instead more of a work in progress: 

"An inescapable fact of human life: We are always trying to become something different, striving for a new mode of being, and indeed cannot remain in one state for long...Nothing in life, therefore, can be regarded as stable. A person should be regarded as a process, not an unchangeable entity."

                                                                                         -Karen Armstrong, Buddha

Until next time…

DOG DAYS

Usually I am moved to post a blog entry after some personal experience or musing brings me to the discovery of new insight. Usually it is a broad concept that I happen upon and hope to shed new light on through my writing. Although I would like to think that my topics inspire others to think differently and incorporate something new into their lives, in many cases the ideas I present may be too vague or intangible to know immediately how to make use of them.

Well today I have a very simple and very specific piece of advice to share: Play with your dog. Even when you don’t have time for it, just do it! It will make a world of a difference for both of you.

I know that I am in a very fortunate position right now in which I don’t have many commitments or time restraints and most of you have full-time jobs and/or are otherwise busy people. But with more stress in your lives, I feel the advice is all the more important. Others of you don’t even have dogs (and for this my heart goes out to you).  If that is the case and you were really looking for a no-thinking-required, applicable recommendation, I will not fault you for disregarding this piece. However, if you’re open to molding a sound bit of advice to fit your personal needs, I welcome you canine-less folk to stick around.  

As most know, I have shared the last eleven years of my life with one amazing chocolate lab. He is my nurse. He is my protector. He is my companion. He is my best friend. He means everything to me and I would long for him constantly during my time abroad. There was nothing I wanted more than to see his smiling face and wagging tail or to cuddle up next to him.

It’s easy to see how much you love a dog when he’s far away. The same way that it’s easy to give a lot of attention to a friend’s dog when you only see him once-in-a-blue-moon. On the contrary, when you are lucky enough to be around your best friend everyday you seem to forget how important he is.

You’re busy—we’ve all been there. He brings toys to you and jumps up on you when you’re in the middle of things that have to get done. Sometimes he even knocks stuff over and causes a mess. Sometimes he’s really needy and cries or barks till you yell at him to stop. Sometimes he follows your every move and it drives you insane. Sometimes he just doesn’t know when to give up.

You know why? Because “although he is but part of your world, you are his whole world.” Dogs are incredibly smart beings, but it’s really hard for them to understand why you can’t play right now. You’re his best friend. Why wouldn’t you wanna throw his ball or go on a walk when he does? What can be more important than that? As humans, we can probably think of quite a few answers to that question but I bet your dog can’t think of one.

I love Charlie being a part of my life, but often I take that for granted. I’m happy to throw around his toys when I think it’s time for that, but when I’m in the middle of something I tend to only half-pay attention to him and ignore him unless he comes up to me. Around dinnertime, however, I realized that that was all I had done today.

As I was filling up the sink to wash my dishes I felt a very intentional nudge from behind and there was Charlie and his (stuffed animal) flea. Usually I would coo over his toy, tug it a time or two, pat him on the head, and get on with my business. But something today told me otherwise. Today my intuition told me to turn off the water and truly play with his flea. I focused on that. I wasn’t thinking about what else had to get done and that he was taking up my time. Instead, this was Charlie’s time. Charlie and me and the flea.

We probably played for half an hour. I don’t know for sure—neither of us was counting. We eventually played with many more of his toys and we later went on a walk too. He was so genuinely happy. And I couldn’t get this ridiculous grin off my face. Up until that point it had been a pretty gloomy, unproductive rainy day but now I’m in this place where I couldn’t feel better!

He did this for me—and it was so easy, once I gave him the chance. All he asked for was attention and once I granted him that wish the happiness flowed between us. Maybe you think you don’t have any more time to waste like that, but I bet that you could make the time. And I promise you it won’t be a waste.

None of us want to think the terrible thought—but the truth is that one day our furry friends aren’t gonna be here anymore.  There’s not gonna be a water bowl that needs filling, a cold nose in your face early in the morning, or a toy nudged at your behind; so appreciate it while you can.

Play with his toys when he asks you. Talk to him lovingly. When you do that, look him in the eye—he knows the difference. Listen to him too—he’ll want to show you if something is wrong with him because he trusts you to take care of it. But he can’t do that unless you give him the chance. Take him on walks. Let him spend the extra time sniffing that one super-interesting bush. Let him run free and run fast. Take him for a swim. Cut up an apple just for him. Give him a treat for no reason. Only pull the shades down to dog-height (he likes to look out the windows, even at night). Say goodnight to him and tell him you love him. Those are the kinds of things that will make him fall asleep thinking “today was the BEST day,” yet they really don’t take that much from you.

Dogs are so much simpler than us. And yet there is so much we can learn from them.

ADVENTUROUS

You know that telling moment—you’re filling out a scholarship application, sitting in a job interview, or answering a Buzzfeed quiz—and up pops that dreaded question. “What three words would you use to describe yourself and why?” You panic for a moment. You figured it was coming, yet you held out hope that it wasn’t. How do people seriously expect you to summarize yourself in just three words? Even more mind-boggling, how do you begin to know which three words are the “right” words to hone in on? 

I mean, seriously, there are about a hundred different adjectives I could think of to describe myself with, and they change by the hour. Each one of them, in the moment, is true and yet would probably seem contradictory alongside another adjective I’d choose shortly thereafter. I’m a complex person, damnit, and I can’t begin to simplify myself into just a couple words. Furthermore, I’m in the midst of this self-discovery expedition commonly referred to as life and therefore I’m not all that sure who I am to begin with! It changes by the hour and becomes really difficult to pinpoint the parts of my personality that are lasting, not circumstantial. 

I can admit that in the past, when I’ve had to answer this question, I’ve fallen back on rather generic responses. Hardworking. Passionate. Loyal. I think they’re true and I can provide examples from my life to defend them. Yet there’s just something missing there. I couldn’t quite identify it but in conversations I’ve had over the past few months I’ve realized something huge… 

There is an incredible difference between the way I describe myself and the way others would choose to describe me. 

In each case, the topic was brought up in a completely different way and was not directly related to the comment interview question. However, I now have had three friends offer up their opinion and I found one word surface in every one of their summaries: adventurous. Maybe you’ll laugh at my lack of acceptance at first, but I was truly floored. I’ve never thought of myself as adventurous!

In my mind, I’ve always been a bit reserved—I was the girl who got rave reviews every year in my parent-teacher conferences, but my teachers constantly expressed that they wished I’d talk more. I’ve always felt that I play things on the safe side—I’m an over-thinker and I’ll evaluate a situation from every possible angle before making a move.  I’ve always been so amazed by the risk-taking I see around me, so impressed by the leaps of faith I see other taking. But I guess I’m not only awestruck…sometimes I’m awesome too!

I’m sure there are some people who have unbridled confidence, who don’t second-guess themselves or worry about coming on too strong. I am not one of those people. When faced with a challenge like the three-adjective objective, I immediately start to calculate how much to brag and how much to stay humble. Clearly, I am not perfect. I don’t want to give off the impression that I think I’m the greatest, because that’s not the kind of person I am. At the same time, maybe I’m selling myself short.

What’s so wrong with admitting that I’m adventurous? I've never but able to do it before. But I do think it’s pretty awesome! It shows that I’m passionate…willing to take risks…excited by new prospects…and even hardworking for making my adventures successful. It means that I’ve taken on big projects (personally and professionally) and stretched myself to live up to the challenge. It means that I’ve gained wisdom from unique experiences.

I believe that all of the above is true. But I wouldn’t have really thought to focus on it before. Unfortunately, a lot of our self-concept is developed early on and it can be difficult to shake the impressions that we have of ourselves at an early age. My teachers thought I was shy…so I began to believe I was shy. As soon as it was pointed out to me that I was reluctant to participate in class or exert myself in a group setting, it became that much more difficult for me to shake those tendencies. I don’t blame my educators; they were acknowledging behavior that could have been detrimental to me and I am glad that I have grown out it. Still, I carry around this self-concept in which I am a quiet, non-confrontational person who is afraid to voice my opinion or do “big things.”

And I’m not. I love having meaningful conversation and spreading my newfound insights and perspectives. Give me a topic that I am passionate about and I will NOT be quiet. I  take risks as nonchalantly and see it as just a normal part of life. I seek out opportunities that inspire me; but I’m coming to find out that those same experiences in turn are allowing me to inspire others. It’s as though my passion, my confidence, my adventurousness is contagious. Which makes complete sense—because I caught it from other people too!

Two years ago, my sorority ordered t-shirts for the new school year that have come to be my all-time favorite KD tees. They’re relatively simple—a plain black v-neck with neon pink block letters that spell out “CLASSY SASSY BOLD BEAUTIFUL” followed  by Kappa Delta in silver penmanship. I was as excited as the rest of my sisters to wear them on the first day of classes and feel confident not only to show off my sorority letters, but also to share such an accurate summation of my sisterhood.

I had no shame in representing Kappa Delta that way—it was easy to see the four words as the right ones to describe our sorority. What I seemed to subconsciously do, however, was attribute those adjectives to something I belonged to, not specifically myself. With time, I’ve come to truly believe in their personal truth.

It’s easy to describe the people and things that we love with loving words. It’s easy to speak well of the people we believe in because we can see past all of their little faults and focus in on all of their outstanding qualities. We know they are good people and that they are capable of great things. We have all the faith in the world in them and they don’t necessarily need to prove it to us…we just KNOW.

But do we give ourselves that same credit? Do we always feel comfortable describing ourselves with strong, positive words? Do we focus on our overall value or our relatively inconsequential faults? Do we continue to have confidence in ourselves or to lose faith after one small misstep? 

We’ve heard it a million times—you’re your own worst critic. And that is so incredibly true. I know I’m a victim of the negative, or even merely neutral, thoughts about myself. Yet my friends and family seem to focus on the positive. We give each other that slack, but fail to see the importance of it when it comes to yours truly. I’m challenging myself, therefore, to remember that I am enough. Not only am I enough…I’m a lot more than that! And you are too. I hope you’ll continue to tell yourself.