Category: Memories

A New Year’s Prayer

As this new year dawns,

may we pause –

like the forest at first light –

and remember who we are.

May we recognize the suffering born of hate,

and may we meet it not with more fire,

but with clear seeing, steady breath,

and compassionate action.

Like water shaping stone,

may our kindness be persistent.

Like roots beneath the soil,

may our intentions be quiet and strong.

When fear arises,

may we notice it without feeding it.

When anger appears,

may we allow it to pass like a storm—

felt, but not obeyed.

May we remember that each being—

human, animal, river, mountain, wind—

is bound by the same thin, sacred thread.

To harm one is to harm the whole.

To heal one is to heal the whole.

For those who feel small or powerless,

may we remember the teaching of the seed:

no tree begins as a forest.

One mindful act, one kind word,

one moment of awareness

can change the direction of the world.

May we walk gently on this Earth,

listening to what has been wounded

and responding with care.

May we release what no longer serves—

greed, cruelty, illusion—

and make space for wisdom to grow.

In this turning of the year,

may our minds become clearer,

our hearts more open,

our actions aligned with right intention.

May peace arise naturally,

as the lotus rises from the mud –

untouched by what it grew from,

offering beauty to all.

May all beings be safe.

May all beings be free from suffering.

May all beings live in harmony

Peace to all – Johnna

A New Year — Setting Intention

I always thought that each New Year’s  Resolution I set would bring a new me. What exactly that looked like, I really never knew because I only ever did part of the footwork needed to become that “new me”. 

We left on the road now almost exactly 5.5 years ago. The New Year 2026 will be that milestone. In that time, I really feel like a lot of healing has occurred. I loved the traveling, it was dynamic and filled with so many experiences that kindled growth. Mostly, I believe that the oxidation of all parts of the body, caused by stress, was the hardest to undo and repair. It rears its ugly head in so many ways, both mentally and physically.  

So much has happened over this time of travel that would probably never have happened if we had stayed put in our comfort level. Not to say we are not spontaneous, and – in the minds of family and friends – probably a bit too reckless at times but we are growing a bit more reserved. I’ve said it before that travel allows the mind to become pliable again. Allows the body to be pushed to its limits and a bit beyond. It teaches you to get out of your self-centeredness and become more selfless. 

We’ve now been living in Costa Rica for 9 months and in our own place for 4 months. That’s the longest we’ve stayed put in one place since we left in 2020. I guess we set our first intention in life together back when we said someday we would live here. That intention set in motion all the preparations since have led up to the moment we bought our home here. In 1993, we first came to Costa Rica and fell in love with this tiny but vast country. 

With a place to become grounded once again, but with the gift of leisure now ours, this year we can not just make a New Year’s resolution, but set our intentions for the new year. More than I’m going to quit this or that, lose weight or eat better. More than empty words and promises that soon die away as the stress of life settles back in after giving it our best efforts. Ah – therein lies the difference. 

Setting intentions can now include seeing how we can achieve these in our new life. It can be not a self-defeating promise but an action-packed movement towards an outcome. We can work on our bodies and our minds by utilizing this leisure time gift as if it were the gift of life itself. We can set ourselves up to succeed and achieve with few hindrances. We have the tools and guidance available all around us here, and have tapped into the knowledge that exists here. In the humans, the nature, and the natural forces of the coming time of change in our universe. If there was ever a year to do it – this is the year. 

Is the Grass Really Greener?

It’s an absolutely stunning morning. A week before Christmas. The sun has risen above the mountains, drying out any hint of dampness left behind by the night’s rain. A slight breeze kisses my cheek, inviting me to awaken to the promise of this day. The soulful cry of the toucans drifts through the cool air, igniting joy in my heart and bringing a smile to my face. The day’s activities have already begun.

It’s been three months since we moved to Costa Rica. Every day brings something new – some good, some not so good – but everything offers a chance to learn. We are slowly settling in, and time slips away so easily here. Some days I sit quietly on the back patio, simply taking it all in. Other days are a flurry of activity – from Tai Chi and volunteering, to ferias and multiple shopping stops to gather what’s needed to prepare wonderful meals. And of course, there are beach days. It’s amazing how much time there is once you’ve stopped. Stopped working. Stopped traveling. Stopped worrying.

We move through phases of bliss and phases of WTF are we doing here?! 

This is a country of mixed messages. There are moments of total chill – when everything flows effortlessly, without a hitch. And then there are the moments marked by a lack of urgency or commitment to show up on time…if at all. The Tico people are wonderful; there is simply no rush. You can plan your entire day and watch as not one thing unfolds as expected. By day’s end, you may realize you’ve waited and waited, yet nothing has gotten done. It’s frustrating – mostly when we compare life here to life in the States. Every choice carries consequences, both good and bad. This choice was ours.

Then there are the funnies. It’s a bright, sunny day and the power blinks on and off several times within a couple of hours. It’s pouring rain – the power blinks again. This week there’s a leak in this water main line or that one, so sorry, the water will be off for a few hours – not for lack of water, mind you, there’s plenty of that. Huge green Iguanas choose our back deck for make-out sessions, then cool off in the pool afterward. Tiny spiders float endlessly from thing to thing, leaving us to walk through their strands face-first. Each morning I dust every piece of outdoor furniture, trying to stay ahead of yesterday’s web trails. Geckos poop all over everything leaving little mouse poos with white dots looking like an explanation point – guess they are making a statement. And of course, there’s the ongoing adventure of asking and answering in Spanish. 

The list goes on.

It’s the dry season now.

We shall see how green the grass stays.

As the holiday season begins –

This Thanksgiving, we embrace gratitude for the calm we’ve built and compassion for those missing loved ones. Together, we honor the enduring bonds that transcend distance.

This year, Thanksgiving feels different.

It feels heavier… and somehow, more sacred.

Because while Chris and I wake up each morning surrounded by peace — free from the grinding stress that once sat on our shoulders — we know that so many others are carrying a very different weight right now.

A weight made of fear, of sudden goodbyes, of families torn apart by harsh policies and heartless raids. There are empty chairs at tables today not because of distance or choice, but because loved ones were taken, uprooted, scattered. Entire families are living with a quiet ache that never seems to lift.

Yet in the middle of all that heartbreak… there is still gratitude.

Chris and I are deeply, humbly thankful for the life we’ve been able to build here in Costa Rica — for the calm, the safety, the space to breathe again. And we’re just as grateful for the people who keep our hearts stitched together across countries: the friends who have become family here, and the loved ones in the States whose connection remains a steady, grounding presence.

We’re thankful for every message, every visit, every shared laugh across borders — reminders that love doesn’t weaken with distance; it grows stronger, more intentional, more cherished.

So today we’re holding two truths side by side: Gratitude for the peace we have… and compassion for those spending this holiday with pieces missing.

To everyone feeling that empty space at the table, that tug of worry, that longing for someone who should be here — you are not invisible. You are carried in the hearts of many.

May the days ahead bring comfort where there has been fear, hope where there has been loss, and reunions where there have been far too many separations.

My love and heartfelt wishes for a reflective holiday season.

A new beginning

Plant a garden, walk on the beach, listen to the new sounds of our home, all of these gifts have been given to us in this transition. Change is for once, welcome in our lives. Days are filled with sun and rain, the yin and yang of the mother. Sometimes this all feels so enormous, and at other times, so quaint. 

There’s a sense of anxiety, a little panic even, when we sit down at night, which comes early here, and look around at the little nest we are preparing for ourselves, realizing that we have stopped for a time. Longer than in the last 5+ years. Then we remind ourselves that this is not an ending, but a new beginning. A new jumping off point with a home to come back to. 

Travel is in our blood, period. As I’ve said before, it keeps life new. It invigorates our souls. It inspires and challenges us. It is not always easy but always worth it! This little pause will be a time of rejuvenation, healing and relaxation. We’ve seen so much of our tiny world in the last few years of life on the road. We’ve been around the globe, in the Northern hemisphere mainly, dipping down to and just below the equator a time or two. It’s time to explore the southern hemisphere and indulge in all that this part of the world has to offer. 

No, we are not done, not until we can no longer walk. Not until the breath no longer moves through us. Travel is in our blood, every inch and fiber of our beings. Even after this life expires, we will continue to travel on a different path. So stay tuned for more adventures. Laugh with us, cry with us, travel with us through our words and photos. Everyone is welcome! 

Moving on: Five years on the road

In a world such as we live in, it’s easy to become enveloped in the haste, waste, and turmoil. We are often overloaded with sound, visual violence and opinions spread out on WiFi, TV and podcasts. Social media fans the flames of whatever you choose to search for. 

We run around in belching cars and buses, squeeze into tubes of steel shot through tunnels underground like the voles we curse every spring. We jump into flimsy aluminum winged machines and are totally disconnected from the ground itself flung through the air to our next destination. We live in cement towers, scraping the sky, in little wooden boxes and climate controlled rooms. We walk on a foot of cement and steel below our feet. We wrap our feet in shoes and socks. Plug our ears with buds and bury our faces in our phones. 

We live in a place that chooses to treat symptoms instead of sorting through to the root cause of our ‘dis-ease’. 

STOP! Enough…we had to tell ourselves that this is not making us happy. We chose to become nomads. 

Over the last 5 years of travel, we have learned so much. Seen so much. Encountered people and cultures that have enveloped us in their embrace. We’ve managed to become part of and welcomed into strangers’ lives. We’ve given back to the people and embraced new languages, customs and experiences. We have “family” all over the world. Our lives are so much fuller and complete. But…it’s time to stop and get grounded again. To kick off our shoes and walk in the sand, swim in the ocean and streams, become an observer of the life around us rather than being immersed in the doing. Costa Rica has won our hearts.

Seeing a beautiful bird fly through the air, hearing the myriad of sounds that subtly stimulate the senses. Watching Mother Nature unleash her fury in a place built to take it and shake it off like water on a ducks back. Being in a place so alive, where much of living is done outdoors in the abundance of nature that surrounds us. It’s deeply healing to finally be grounded. Surrounded by like minded souls that feed each other rather than take. A place of serenity and deep seated balance with the life around us. A place devoid of the negative stimulation we are so accustomed to. 

I think we will find a new family here too. Awakening to a new way of life, new language, new sights and sounds.  Not as a traveler or tourist, but a place to call home. Today, five years to the day we started our nomadic life, we settle down and ground ourselves in a new home in Uvita, Costa Rica. 

Costa Rica has so much to give. Clean air, clean water, clean power, beautiful flora and fauna. Hell even some of the streets are paved in small towns. A country dedicated to wellness, environment and nature. A slower pace. People so friendly, my face hurts by the end of the day because everyone smiles! Everyone says hello and how are you, while standing still and waiting for your reply. There are no strangers here because once they notice your new, they want to help you in any way. Refreshing! 

Transitioning: A place to call home

When one transitions from van life back to living behind the four walls of a house, believe it or not, it takes quite a bit of adjusting. One might say there’s a bit of separation anxiety or grief. Why do I say that? Perhaps it’s something that can only be understood by someone who has experienced living for more than a month in a custom van. Allow me to explain.

We first moved into “SleepyTurtle”, our self-built Ford Transit, in June of 2020. We transitioned from aprox. 6,000 sq ft to about 40. Now that in itself was actually easier than you’d think. See, living in a van opens up your “home” to all the outdoors. Don’t like the scenery…move. Don’t like the weather… drive to a new location. Your overhead boils down to fuel, both propane and petrol, camp spots, water (in some countries), food, insurance (health/car and travel), repairs and maintenance of your rig and of course connectivity, be it cellphone, internet/WiFi, or satellite radio. Simple. 

Living in a van allows you freedom. 

Living in a van allows you solitude.

Living in a van allows you to connect with nature and like-minded people. Simple people. 

Living in a van there’s no agenda aside from what direction you’ll head, where will you spend Winter this year, Summer? 

Living in a van makes you conscientious of trash production, water and power usage. 

Nature becomes your front and back yards. Wether beach, mountain, lake or desert, it can all be yours for as long as you choose. Fancy another country for a few months, years? Go for it! You’re mobile!

In the last five years, we’ve owned and lived in 2 different vans. Each served a purpose geared to the trip ahead. “Willow” was built and enhanced for a trek to the Arctic Circle, Alaska, BC and Alberta Canada and finally South Dakota and all the way to the tip of Baja California Sur, Mexico. Willow performed like a champ and is now retired and will be put up for sale soon. We’ve now moved onto Costa Rica where we are AirBnBing it for the next while. 

So, back to transitioning. We now reside back inside. I remember the first night back in a walled building. I lie awake listening to the hum of the electricity, the sound of water and flushing toilets. The hiss of central AC and heating units. I missed the silence. 

There are the “comforts of home”, TV, WiFi (no longer isolated to brick and mortar), running water, a big fridge and ice cubes, climate control, clean hot showers, a plug on every wall, and beside every table and chair with an unlimited source of power. The price tag for such niceties is pricey and often requires a job or takes a big chunk out of the monthly budget, and takes a chunk of your freedom away. But every now and then, you feel the need to “nest”, meaning to settle down in one place for an extended period of time, or as Chris puts it, “a place to put your stuff…” of which we have little material things left. 

I’m currently sitting in my air conditioned room, looking outside. It looks beautiful but I am in a city. There’s no seeking silence out there only in here, with the hum of the mini-split, running water and TV. The transition is tough. The freedom of the road or a “place to put our stuff” and call home? Not all exploration can be done in a van I guess. A new chapter has begun for the chicas. 

Driving while gringo

We are booking it back to Salt Lake City. We are about 30 miles outside Mesquite Nevada and our camp for the night. 

Getting back into the FUSA was quite an experience. 

We left San Filipe after visiting with our new friends we met on our beach in Playa La Escondida. They had come down for Laurie’s birthday and happened upon the Hidden Bar, our little beach bar, open everyday except Monday and Thursday. We sat at the table beside them and started talking like old friends. I found out that she had owls as a spirit animal and finally I understood who I was making the owls for. We grabbed dinner with them and then took off the next day. 

It’s quite a slog all the way to the border from San Filipe in one day since the roads suck so bad. We pushed all the way to the border and arrived at around 1:30 or so. As was typical, there were no signs directing traffic so we cut into the double lane with a tall yellow curb preventing anyone from cutting in or out except at certain streets. The lanes were moving terribly slow and we remembered that we had global entry and that worked at the borders too. SO we got out of the slow lanes and went into the ACCESO lane. 

Well that was a mistake. 

So first three Mexicano Border guards desired to take a good look in the van, back utility boxes, bathroom, cabinets and then let us go. Next was the US border agents. It was then the mistake became clear. We were asked for our passports specifically. He said that since we decided to come down the wrong lane, we had to go through a secondary inspection. What? We informed him we had global entry and he said oh, well it’s too late now. We were directed into a stall, told to leave all electronics, including our watches and cellphones in the car and go sit in the office. We were told to open all the doors and hood. 

In this room were two rows of chairs, backs to the window so we couldn’t watch them. I sat on an end chair and watched anyway. I had brought back 2 large scallop shells and stuck them in the outside pockets of the trash-a-roo, in plain sight. The inspector asked about them, where they came from? I told him and he was pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to have them. The inspector got another inspector who allowed the shells and that was the end of it. Basically we were getting our hand smacked for being in the wrong lane. We were allowed to leave. 

A few learned driving habits, good ones, died hard after crossing. In Baja, we MUST come to a COMPLETE stop at all stop signs, and anticipate which crossroads had, or were supposed to have a stop. When coming up on some bad potholes, an accident, or just slowing traffic, the 4 way blinkers come on, signaling an abrupt change in speed. There is no texting and driving since some towns have an access lane for businesses and a thru lane for traffic just passing by. This can create some tricky maneuvering as any car can turn left across all lanes from the far right lanes. Essentially making it a 6 way stop. At anytime, solid lines, curves or coming up on a hill, any vehicle will pass you, and with skinny lanes and no shoulders, this can be quite hairy and not recommended for us Gringos who are used to wide lanes. There are so many others that are just wonky but serve their purpose in Baja. 

Well, we survived Baja once again. Traveling three months from top to southern tip and back again. We met new friends and caught up with longtime friends. We sat in the emptiness, created in one’s mind, while on a beach. Swam in the salty seas. Played upon the glassy bays with our paddle boards. Ate fresh caught fish, fresh veggies and fruits, and dabbled in new tasty treats while in Oaxaca. Time seemed to slow as we became alive with new experiences, like children in adult bodies, new discoveries fascinated us. Living with purpose, relaxing into a timeless existence. Accepting whatever came our way, without needing to change it as it unfolded. Living in the moment, not the past or future, just in the moment. 

A fast paced life? Not for me

In the last 75 days, we’ve traveled the entire length of Baja Mexico exploring both the Pacific Coast and the East side of the Sea of Cortez to the South and East of Cabo San Lucas by Van. We also flew to the Yucatan Peninsula   to visit Tulum and the far southeast of mainland Mexico to explore Oaxaca. That’s almost 3500 miles. Every mile has been worth it. The culture, the people, the sights, sounds, art, architecture, history and food, all have played an integral part in the experience. A lifetime of memories packed into a measured amount of time. Amazing comes to mind. 

We have tasted new flavors, textures and savored the aroma of the local foods. Fresh, full of flavors I don’t think I’ve ever tasted before. A cacophony of zings and sweetness, fiery hot and creamy smooth, crunchy, chewy, stringy and saucy. I’ve tried things I couldn’t quite identify and the translation from the menu, just made you laugh. We’ve aimed our phones at so many menus, attempting to decipher the dishes. Often times the pictures spoke volumes, although the color has often times faded from the strong Mexican sun. Just sit back…giggle and breathe…it’s all part of the adventure. 

Walking around as much as we do in these cities, is also an experience. First rule, never step on a manhole cover or other covers in the sidewalk or the telephone and fiber cable boxes, water meter boxes and water tank fill boxes. Often these boxes no longer have intact lids, making for some perilous walking. Why should the sidewalks be any different than the roads? Crosswalks…well no, not really, more of a suggestion as are the 4 way stop signs on every block. It’s like a read my mind game. Which drivers are gonna stop and is it safe to cross? It’s kinda a cat and mouse game, no maybe more like chicken. The drivers are usually kind and if not in a hurry, will wave you on or flash the lights. As this happens the entire street full of cars at the intersection, blow off the stop signs and continue in a stream of metal, until…a driver inches his way out enough to stop the flow and take his turn. Impatient horns are a thing here too. Not the lay on the horn of the American culture, there is no road rage, just an impatient honk honk and a friendly acknowledgment from the other driver. 

One could liken walking around in these small Mexican towns to Christmas. Behind every wall is a prize. Brightly colored rooms lit in soft lighting, families gathered around tables sharing a meal, artisan shops and galleries all hide behind these walls. Everyone surrounds their homes with tall walls, often imbedded broken glass or spikes line the tops, warding off any intruders. There are often elaborate gates and a gang of rescued street dogs warning you to not enter. The walls, as in Loreto and Oaxaca, are often embellished with creative designs, incredible artisan images of life, history, nature or cultural themes fill entire sides of buildings. Some tell stories of the hardships of life in Mexico, the kindness of the people, the industriousness of Mexico. Others are underwater worlds depicted in large murals. 

To be able to experience this and so much more requires us to slow down. To really take a look around. To watch our step and smell the air for what is on the menu. To really stop and admire the painting, carving, saying, design, posters and even the graffiti. There is no hurry, life is too short to not live it fully, here and now. We’re so lucky to have the leisure time we do and the means to travel…and the guts to step outside our comfort zone to try something new. 

The Art of Wave Watching and Sky Meditation

The immense energy builds
The water retreats from the beach leaving a shimmering ripple on the sand
The wave pulls up
Up and up building up a frothy top
Gravity takes control and the wave crashes
A thunderous clap as the top of the immense wave hits the calm water below
It rolls slowly to the shore loosing its energy as it passes over the sand
The calm and stillness take over
A lone surfer paddles out and meets this energy
Riding its strength and power

The sky beyond the waves is vast and encompassing
I stare into it with a deep inhalation
As I release I am pulled into the vastness of the deep blue
I enter the energy and light
As finite as the line between sea and sky is
I transcend into the oneness of it all
The breeze blows across my skin…hot with sun
My toes bury deep in the sand
I am connected earth, sky and water
I am the link between them all
I breathe again and slowly pull my conscious back to this moment
I can feel the interconnectedness of it all and I am one with it all and at peace
Johnna