Tag: feelings

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! 

Words

My mind struggles to find words

Words of peace

Words of love

Just words

Empty

Meaningless

Vacant

Creative

Of my heart

I can see

I can hear

My feelings 

trapped in words

My thoughts

Gone

A drop of water

In a sea of vast emptiness

I struggle

To find the words

10/21