Last night, over a glass of red wine, I did my best to explain the word 'become' to Steven. The Spanish translation hacerse just doesn't do the word justice. A caterpillar will become a butterfly, I told him. A child becomes an adult. "The tourists will be come," he offered. No. Close, but no. To become is to develop into something, I tried again. To grow? he asked. Closer, I said, but still not quite. Deeper. It's like evolving, I explained. If you practice something, you'll become better. Tadpoles become frogs. He nodded his head slowly to show he understood, but I wasn't completely sure he caught my drift.
After two long days of traveling, I'm back in Costa Rica. I met a German girl, an artist, named Sarah Kai when I was traveling in Brazil a few years back. She told me during my days of acclimation that she believes it takes the soul three full days to catch up with the body after traveling long distances. I never forgot that ring of truth, and so I'm midway through day three and still waiting patiently. Ah, but the warm balmy air, the curl back in my hair, the sun on my skin, the ocean, the beach, the purr of espanol...it does feel good to be home. Still, my ten days of reconnecting, tracing back my roots, have left me with so much to process. It's like trying to digest Thanksgiving Dinner.
I remember taking off from Costa Rica, looking down at the diminishing mountains, valley, and ocean, thinking how much I would miss that raw beauty. As we approached the east coast of North America from above, I saw the Monopoly board of settlement below and thought, too much everything. I felt my chest clench up as I gathered my carry-on baggage.
My first taste of the US after a long year away was an unexpected excursion (I will not say lost, Dad) through most of the state of New Jersey, most definitely not the most picturesque state. But for the...detour...I was blessed with 4 hours (sorry, Dad, I had to) of low-down on what's new with my Dad (interspersed with some interesting curses...in English) while finding our way back to Pennsylvania alongside the Delaware Water Gap. The gold, the burning orange, the glorious reds of autumn whizzed by on either side of us from mountains, yes, mountains that climbed up to the same blue sky I'd flown in on. South America, North America, Earth is Earth, unceasingly beautiful in all its diversities. Transitioning from one type of beauty to another is less difficult than I'd expected. Ah, but temperature is something entirely different. It was so freakin' cold!!!
Ten days of activity, undivided attention, visiting, reminiscing, catching up on long-overdue errands...after my three days grace period, with only one small meltdown on the morning of day 3 (Dad, the brand new Grandpa tried everything but checking to see if I'd pooped my pants to do his best to help. Want something to eat, pal? Something to drink? Are you warm enough? Good ol' Dad.) it flew by in a blur. Too fast. My Mom, eager to help however she could as well, had planned a birthday party, complete with all my favorite everything I've missed from friends to family to soft pretzels and sushi, in hopes of lessening the burden of running around to fit everyone and everything in. It was so much fun, almost an overload of fun, but even for the masses contained in one place I didn't get to spend nearly enough time individually. It was a blessing, though, to find myself in the same space with everything I was absent from for so long. Love doesn't require conversation. Good thing, too, because by night's end, conversation had dwindled to drunk-talk and awful singing by the hangers on. All piled in the outdoor jacuzzi (did I mention it was freezing?). All of us wearing my Dad's boxer shorts (good ol' Dad).
Too much squeezed into one week should not turn into too much squeezed into one blog. So, in the interest of keeping it readable in one sitting, I will distill it down to some favorite moments (in chronological order):
Everything my Mom. Seriously guys. Time and space has yielded whole new appreciation.
Hugs from Julie (I thought I would pop!) and Linda (gentle and warm, my sister)...I'm all about balance : )
ASHLYN! Especially those snazzy get-ups, compliments of Pop. Gotta be major cute to pull them off!
The drunken sing-a-long in the hot tub is worthy of two mentions for sure (Every little thing is gonna be alright...).
A surprisingly serendipitous virtual birthday reconnect with long lost friend Katita.
3am pizza in Angeliki's bed. (Nicole! What are you doing? Pizza. Go to sleep.)
Dance-offs to everything from Sinead O'Connor (seriously hysterical) to the Golden Oldies with Brett, Zack, and the Captain.
Chili night at Julie and Shafat's place. Good conversation, red wine and L. Brown's laughter all in one place!
Best of all: the compliments to the chef, ahem (I am not bragging...that NEVER happens!).
Laughing 'til my sides hurt while watching the Phillies work toward winning the World Series while tossing random pop flies to Zack across the living room (Philllaaaaays! Yeah! WOOOOO!).
Visiting with Dan and Paulie (zzzz..whoa! I dunno what happened there)...had some Hallmark moments there, didn't we guys?
My favorite bartender Zack (different than dance partner Zack) at the Good Dog Bar ever-ready with a fresh Yard's Pale Ale. That one was worthy of two visits.
My favorite Greek's mushrooms and pasta! (hmm...there's a lot of food referenced here, and it ain't rice and beans!)
Meagen. After a year in withdrawal...every second with Meg! (Tea and Talk didn't happen, but we sure did drink a lot o' beer!)
Ms. Pacman at McGlinchy's!!!
Never-ending supply of fun hats.
The 2:30am ketchup mishap while eating my first in forever cheesesteak at Pat's with new pal Andy.
Actually making it to Jill's (amazing) Saturday morning 9am yoga class at Wake Up.
Vegan BLTs at Mugshots.
Exhibiting my neurosis while Juleen cut and colored my hair (a task she swore against yeeeears ago. By the way, Jules, I LOVE IT!)
Playing Go Fish en espanol with Brett (Pesca!).
Eating Angeliki's hand-me-down MacDonald's breakfast in lieu of the cherry coughdrop I was offered (but they're nutritious AND delicious. Whatever dude).
Lazy Sundays with the family. Eat, nap, eat, TV, nap, eat, sleep.
Watching my big little brother curl up, in his pj's, on the living room floor with his teeny tiny little girl.
Knowing my niece enough to miss her.
Singing an Ain't That America duet while cruising up I95 in Brett's big ol' hunk o' Buick (Ain't THAT America?)
Dad giving me the Phillies cap right off his head at the airport so I could represent : )
I wouldn't allow myself to think too much on my flight back to Costa Rica. Three days, I always say. No guilt, no worry, no stress at all. Three days, at least, and everything will settle in. Still, the thoughts that did creep in went something like: what in the world am I doing anyway? why do I have to go so far to do it? am I insane? what exactly am I trying to accomplish? I miss this or I'm going to miss that....
A month or so ago I came across a doodle I'd made at the bottom of a page of my notebook. I remember drawing the beginnings of it while sitting, bored-stiff, in an SAP training for my last 'real' job. The left margin of the page was shaded in completely black. One square inch of plain, black nothing. Just inside the left margin, Cain and I are drawn as stick figures in thick, deep-pressed lines and ovals. I have a tight ponytail. Cain is on a leash pulled taut. We're walking and smiling. I'm holding a balloon. The sun is shining down on us as we walk happily to my waiting convertible, top down. A little further on is a fire hydrant waiting for Cain's attention. Could I have been trying to draw my way out of that boardroom, out of that dingy box, to something more free?
Later, at some point while living down here, though I can't remember exactly when, I'd added another scene to that drawing, connected to the first by a wave of ocean, drawn in soft, wispy lines. On the shore is a stick figure of a girl in that same easy hand, lying face to the sky, arms behind her head, on a blanket near a bonfire. Her hair is long and wavy, free. She has a big smile. Behind her is a happy, playful dog, leashless, shredding a coconut underneath a palm tree. The moon above them is big and full. The sky is full of stars and gauzy clouds. And even though it's a nighttime sky, it isn't shaded black.
When I found that sketch, I cut it out and stuck it to the side of a cabinet in our apartment. I colored the bonfire bright orange and red and yellow with some pastels, but left the rest as it was.
On the morning of my third day back in Costa Rica, Steven came over and was hanging around. "What's that?" he asked, pointing to the drawing. I smiled reflectively and took it down to show him. I explained each frame, from the black box I'd drawn in the conference room in the states to the beach scene intended to be Playitas, and remarked as an afterthought that I'd only just noticed how each scene seemed to be drawn by a different hand. He nodded slowly, obviously considering. "It's becoming," he said, still nodding. "Wow, Steven," I said, beginning to nod myself, "Thank you. That's exactly right."
After two long days of traveling, I'm back in Costa Rica. I met a German girl, an artist, named Sarah Kai when I was traveling in Brazil a few years back. She told me during my days of acclimation that she believes it takes the soul three full days to catch up with the body after traveling long distances. I never forgot that ring of truth, and so I'm midway through day three and still waiting patiently. Ah, but the warm balmy air, the curl back in my hair, the sun on my skin, the ocean, the beach, the purr of espanol...it does feel good to be home. Still, my ten days of reconnecting, tracing back my roots, have left me with so much to process. It's like trying to digest Thanksgiving Dinner.
I remember taking off from Costa Rica, looking down at the diminishing mountains, valley, and ocean, thinking how much I would miss that raw beauty. As we approached the east coast of North America from above, I saw the Monopoly board of settlement below and thought, too much everything. I felt my chest clench up as I gathered my carry-on baggage.
My first taste of the US after a long year away was an unexpected excursion (I will not say lost, Dad) through most of the state of New Jersey, most definitely not the most picturesque state. But for the...detour...I was blessed with 4 hours (sorry, Dad, I had to) of low-down on what's new with my Dad (interspersed with some interesting curses...in English) while finding our way back to Pennsylvania alongside the Delaware Water Gap. The gold, the burning orange, the glorious reds of autumn whizzed by on either side of us from mountains, yes, mountains that climbed up to the same blue sky I'd flown in on. South America, North America, Earth is Earth, unceasingly beautiful in all its diversities. Transitioning from one type of beauty to another is less difficult than I'd expected. Ah, but temperature is something entirely different. It was so freakin' cold!!!
Ten days of activity, undivided attention, visiting, reminiscing, catching up on long-overdue errands...after my three days grace period, with only one small meltdown on the morning of day 3 (Dad, the brand new Grandpa tried everything but checking to see if I'd pooped my pants to do his best to help. Want something to eat, pal? Something to drink? Are you warm enough? Good ol' Dad.) it flew by in a blur. Too fast. My Mom, eager to help however she could as well, had planned a birthday party, complete with all my favorite everything I've missed from friends to family to soft pretzels and sushi, in hopes of lessening the burden of running around to fit everyone and everything in. It was so much fun, almost an overload of fun, but even for the masses contained in one place I didn't get to spend nearly enough time individually. It was a blessing, though, to find myself in the same space with everything I was absent from for so long. Love doesn't require conversation. Good thing, too, because by night's end, conversation had dwindled to drunk-talk and awful singing by the hangers on. All piled in the outdoor jacuzzi (did I mention it was freezing?). All of us wearing my Dad's boxer shorts (good ol' Dad).
Too much squeezed into one week should not turn into too much squeezed into one blog. So, in the interest of keeping it readable in one sitting, I will distill it down to some favorite moments (in chronological order):
Everything my Mom. Seriously guys. Time and space has yielded whole new appreciation.
Hugs from Julie (I thought I would pop!) and Linda (gentle and warm, my sister)...I'm all about balance : )
ASHLYN! Especially those snazzy get-ups, compliments of Pop. Gotta be major cute to pull them off!
The drunken sing-a-long in the hot tub is worthy of two mentions for sure (Every little thing is gonna be alright...).
A surprisingly serendipitous virtual birthday reconnect with long lost friend Katita.
3am pizza in Angeliki's bed. (Nicole! What are you doing? Pizza. Go to sleep.)
Dance-offs to everything from Sinead O'Connor (seriously hysterical) to the Golden Oldies with Brett, Zack, and the Captain.
Chili night at Julie and Shafat's place. Good conversation, red wine and L. Brown's laughter all in one place!
Best of all: the compliments to the chef, ahem (I am not bragging...that NEVER happens!).
Laughing 'til my sides hurt while watching the Phillies work toward winning the World Series while tossing random pop flies to Zack across the living room (Philllaaaaays! Yeah! WOOOOO!).
Visiting with Dan and Paulie (zzzz..whoa! I dunno what happened there)...had some Hallmark moments there, didn't we guys?
My favorite bartender Zack (different than dance partner Zack) at the Good Dog Bar ever-ready with a fresh Yard's Pale Ale. That one was worthy of two visits.
My favorite Greek's mushrooms and pasta! (hmm...there's a lot of food referenced here, and it ain't rice and beans!)
Meagen. After a year in withdrawal...every second with Meg! (Tea and Talk didn't happen, but we sure did drink a lot o' beer!)
Ms. Pacman at McGlinchy's!!!
Never-ending supply of fun hats.
The 2:30am ketchup mishap while eating my first in forever cheesesteak at Pat's with new pal Andy.
Actually making it to Jill's (amazing) Saturday morning 9am yoga class at Wake Up.
Vegan BLTs at Mugshots.
Exhibiting my neurosis while Juleen cut and colored my hair (a task she swore against yeeeears ago. By the way, Jules, I LOVE IT!)
Playing Go Fish en espanol with Brett (Pesca!).
Eating Angeliki's hand-me-down MacDonald's breakfast in lieu of the cherry coughdrop I was offered (but they're nutritious AND delicious. Whatever dude).
Lazy Sundays with the family. Eat, nap, eat, TV, nap, eat, sleep.
Watching my big little brother curl up, in his pj's, on the living room floor with his teeny tiny little girl.
Knowing my niece enough to miss her.
Singing an Ain't That America duet while cruising up I95 in Brett's big ol' hunk o' Buick (Ain't THAT America?)
Dad giving me the Phillies cap right off his head at the airport so I could represent : )
I wouldn't allow myself to think too much on my flight back to Costa Rica. Three days, I always say. No guilt, no worry, no stress at all. Three days, at least, and everything will settle in. Still, the thoughts that did creep in went something like: what in the world am I doing anyway? why do I have to go so far to do it? am I insane? what exactly am I trying to accomplish? I miss this or I'm going to miss that....
A month or so ago I came across a doodle I'd made at the bottom of a page of my notebook. I remember drawing the beginnings of it while sitting, bored-stiff, in an SAP training for my last 'real' job. The left margin of the page was shaded in completely black. One square inch of plain, black nothing. Just inside the left margin, Cain and I are drawn as stick figures in thick, deep-pressed lines and ovals. I have a tight ponytail. Cain is on a leash pulled taut. We're walking and smiling. I'm holding a balloon. The sun is shining down on us as we walk happily to my waiting convertible, top down. A little further on is a fire hydrant waiting for Cain's attention. Could I have been trying to draw my way out of that boardroom, out of that dingy box, to something more free?
Later, at some point while living down here, though I can't remember exactly when, I'd added another scene to that drawing, connected to the first by a wave of ocean, drawn in soft, wispy lines. On the shore is a stick figure of a girl in that same easy hand, lying face to the sky, arms behind her head, on a blanket near a bonfire. Her hair is long and wavy, free. She has a big smile. Behind her is a happy, playful dog, leashless, shredding a coconut underneath a palm tree. The moon above them is big and full. The sky is full of stars and gauzy clouds. And even though it's a nighttime sky, it isn't shaded black.
When I found that sketch, I cut it out and stuck it to the side of a cabinet in our apartment. I colored the bonfire bright orange and red and yellow with some pastels, but left the rest as it was.
On the morning of my third day back in Costa Rica, Steven came over and was hanging around. "What's that?" he asked, pointing to the drawing. I smiled reflectively and took it down to show him. I explained each frame, from the black box I'd drawn in the conference room in the states to the beach scene intended to be Playitas, and remarked as an afterthought that I'd only just noticed how each scene seemed to be drawn by a different hand. He nodded slowly, obviously considering. "It's becoming," he said, still nodding. "Wow, Steven," I said, beginning to nod myself, "Thank you. That's exactly right."
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