I’m Moving to Central America

I am staring at this blank box as it begins to fill up with words, wondering which words will choose to magically appear out of what seems like thin air. Whenever I write, it’s almost like my fingers know what my eyes need to see, rather than my mind telling my fingers what to type. I look up at the time and it is 11:11 PM. Sometimes when I happen to glance at a clock when it’s 11:11, a smile melts across my face as I imagine it’s the universe letting me know I’m on the right path. It’s a beacon of light when the stress of everything piling up begins to cloud my vision to the point where I begin to doubt what I’m really doing. If it’s worth it. If anyone cares. If I care. And then, Voila, 11:11 shows up and I remember that spark of inspiration that is always lit in my belly. Anywho. Tangent.

In exactly a week from today, at this time, I will be boarding my plane to San Jose, Costa Rica where I will land around 5:30 AM. I will look out the big glass windows of the airport without setting foot on Costa Rican soil and say hello! Hello for the 3rd time in 3 years to this gorgeous, luscious country. But I am not here for Pura Vida! On to the next plane I go. Little Air Panama is a cute plane but also scary because it has propellers and propellers seem like an ancient form of aircraft magic in the year of 2014. They will safely transport me to Bocas Del Toro, Panama.

I’m totally avoiding my emotions right now so I’m going to cut the BS and write about why I feel like writing in the first place.

I have never bought a one way plane ticket to another country. Not once! Every other trip I’ve been on, I have had the comfort of knowing I will most likely return because I had a gosh darn plane ticket. And return tickets are like a little shield of illusion preventing anything disastrous from happening because I have PAID for plane ticket home, so of course I’m going home! At some point. Oh, the safety blankets we create…

Well I have no magical illusion of safety this time. This time, I am leaving my friends, my family, my office, my business partner, my yoga studio and my comfy cozy bed and comfy cozy hot water to jump into a world I have only visited briefly. A world of untamed jungle, fire ants, beautiful sunsets, and yoga on the beach. I will be living off the grid, pumping rain water for my shower, and living the life I am totally capable of living. But I may not even have a home to come home to. My parents may be selling the house I have grown up in while I’m off on this adventure but I believe everything happens for a reason. Even the shitty stuff.

A house is just a house. What makes a home are the memories and relationships that exist between the walls, and not the actual walls themselves. Just like chapters in a book, each one must come to an end which only leads to the next chapter. And if there’s no next chapter then look for the sequel. And after the sequel comes the exciting option of picking out a whole new book with a new story line and brand spankin new characters to learn all about. The old books will always have a place in your heart but you can’t read the same one forever!

I have the privilege of filling up my mind with stories from all over the world with a list of characters that will only grow over time. I have the chance to dive into the unknown head first and I am absolutely terrified and ecstatic and thrilled and elated and a gazilliion of other emotions that are making my heart beat twice as fast. I can feel my pulse in my neck, my fingertips, and the soles of my feet. Just like Savasana in a yoga class. I am surrendering to a kind of death. The final chapter. The last breath. And with this death will come space for renewal, growth and truth. Endings cannot exist without beginnings, and beginnings will be birthed after the final word in a chapter, the last inhale, and the very last exhale. I am making way for the falsities to fall away, and for the truth to spread like fire. Omward and Upward I go!