Beyond the Darkness: My Journey into the Costa Rican Wilderness
A Week of Reflection, Wisdom, and the Unlikely Guides That Illuminate the Path
I unintentionally took the week off from writing. Thank you for your patience, as I work quietly inside myself.
Last week, I landed in Costa Rica for a week-long retreat, thinking my pen would leak words, but nothing came. Even now, home, I show up to milk my heart and only drops come.
During times of saturation, I find my body's water moving up into the clouds. I am now waiting for moisture to descend and bring rain to my earth. Much was given to me this last week, but in some ways I retained very little. Every exchange was symphonic and beautiful, and I feel as if I have pulled away from a too bright sun. It is taking a while for the room to focus again.
I met and sat at the feet of some of whom I consider to be the most inspiring and rich in spirit people: Roshi Joan Halifax, Frank Ostaseski, Dr. Elissa Epel, Cynda Rushton and David Whyte. Each of them brought water from wells deeper than I had ever drunk from before, and I hadn’t realized how thirsty I had been. I fell in love with many, many people. During the night I drifted in and out of dreams of jaguars under a dome of starlight. The howler monkeys woke me up in the morning, and condors circled my head as I walked. When someone asked me about my writing or work in the world, I recoiled in fear and insecurity. I bobbed up and down on the balls of my feet, and found it challenging to own myself.
As I watched these wisdom keepers move in a room, I hoped for answers. I wondered if by looking at them, or by being in their presence, the mirror would become clear. What I wish to learn is how to belong to what lives within me, to bring it out into the open in creative and exploratory ways, to stand flat footed on the ground, instead of withdrawing or diminishing my intimacy with life. In everything I do, I strive to reveal the quivering "yes" beneath my "no". Being found, heard, and seen by you, by others, by myself even, is my yes to life. However, it sometimes bears an extremely heavy thumb. The world has given me access to the most beautiful landscapes and people. This is precisely because I said yes to sharing what wisdom was revealed to me in my most still and confronting moments. Mystery has given me so much, and I want to accept it all, but it is sometimes too overwhelming. I see yes as my contribution to this planet, as our responsibility to each other, and so I set out on retreat to find fuel for the journey.
Living and vibrant are those who rest within their conversations with life. They are close to the breast of creation. Despite their own limitations, they have managed to express themselves. Their greatest gift is the expression of their heart. They are not covered by a gossamer veil. They speak of God and how it manifests for them daily. The feeling of true intimacy is like pressing your ear against the earth's crust and feeling it breathe. Having the courage and generosity to express it freely is the cure for suffering. When we gather around a single truth, we open and unfold. As we pause the cycle of human suffering, we pull wonder back into focus. We look together at the bright sun, and everything else blurs.
My cabin was a short walk down a pebbled path under arcing palm frond arms that, when rubbed together, sounded like hooved monsters. On my first night, I went alone to my room. The night was dark; I had no light. It scared me. There are sounds in the jungle that I have never heard before. Suddenly, I was 4 years old again, walking in the darkness without anyone to hold my hand. It is a recurring feeling for me, that sense of isolation. Innocence thrown into the abyss. As my pulse rate increased, so did my pace. My body started to feel a pressure, and I felt my familiar loneliness screaming for protection. In the forest, two green eyes blinked back at me, and then leaped forward. As the green-eyed creature rushed toward my feet, I was frozen and terrified