Tag Archives: aging

Check it off for Costa Rica!

Flight arrangements made: CHECK!

We will be flying from Jacksonville to Houston to San Jose (the capital of CR, smack in the middle of the country) to Liberia. One major airlines and one local to get us from San Jose to Liberia. 

Ground transportation to Nosara: CHECK!

Nosara is OFF the beaten path. To say the least! Nosara Transport seems to be a lifeline throughout Costa Rica, getting people from here to there in a country that only has one major airport. 

Lodging arranged in Nosara: CHECK!

A casita! Right on the same property with my daughters! Nosara Vacation Rentals has been great to work with and offers a true value for your money. 

Pet Sitting Service: CHECK!

Our motley crew of rescue cats has grown to the point that we can’t leave them alone with bowls of food and water, much like I used to when I traveled for work. Courtney, from Courtney’s Pet and House Sitting, is coming over Sunday to meet the crew.

Traveling takes planning and attention to detail. In my younger years, I packed a bag and headed to the airport. Sometimes that worked……

It also helps to have some personal recommendations when you get your check list out! Feel free to poach mine…..Pura Vida!

hanging bridge

Sansa Airlines: http://crc.flysansa.com/en/planning-and-reservations

Nosara Transport: http://www.nosaratransports.com/

Nosara Vacation Rentals: http://www.iicostarica.com/area.html

Courtney’s Pet and House Sitting Service: https://www.facebook.com/pg/courtneylovespets/about/?ref=page_internal

 

 

 

 

 

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Where Exactly is Costa Rica??

playa pelada

Playa Pelada, Costa Rica

PURA VIDA: Simply translated, it means “simple life” or “pure life” but in Costa Rica, it is more than just a saying—it is a way of life.

 

It’s been awhile, you’re right about that! But the years keep marching by, with or without a blog. Funny how that happens.

And that’s OK. Steeping oneself in the years as they flow by teaches us that sometimes we don’t have much to add to the conversation. But it does takes self-control to stop talking and just listen.

Since my last post, my daughter has married and moved to Nosara, Costa Rica. Yes, you read that correctly; COSTA RICA!

The young woman who grew up in one house, went to school with some of the same people her whole life, and then settled right here in her home town…….she packed her bags and got on that plane to live a saner, slower life.

I envy that. It wasn’t easy, don’t get me wrong. Look around YOUR house; could you get rid of nearly all of it, including your car, and move to another country with only a couple of suitcases? I helped them with garage sales, called in a professional for the rest, and waved good-bye as they disappeared into security at the airport. A bittersweet day. Actually, more bitter than sweet, if I’m being honest.

So, now what? She and I are tight. We had to be, as it was just the two of us here in our little house for all those years. Single mom, doted-on only child making our way through the years. So, what do you THINK I’m going to do about that?

You guessed it: I’m headed to Costa Rica! My first trip will be coming up within about two weeks, so I’m working on travel arrangements–Nosara is NOT on the beaten path, believe me–lodging, pet sitting while we’re gone, all those tiny details that can derail a trip if they are neglected. Age DOES have its advantages that way.

One major change for me is that I now have a wonderful man in my life, one who has my back, something I’ve needed for a very long time. We’re excited to take this adventure together.

Oh, wait. I forgot to tell you: You’re all going with us, so stay tuned! I will be posting from now as we prepare until we return, complete with pictures and video. You may want to visit this tropical paradise, too, and we can pave the way for you.

Get your virtual passports ready…….

Pura Vida!

map
Nosara, Costa Rica

 

 

 

 

Family ties……

Remember the TV series entitled “Family Ties”?

I don’t have many of those. The reasons are varied, some known to me, others still (and might remain) buried deep inside the footlocker of my family’s history. But those issues are not my point here.

Recently I attended the funeral of an uncle, my mother’s older brother. At that coming together of friends and family to honor his memory and life, I met relatives that I didn’t know until the introductions were made that day. They are not distant kin, either; they are the children of my first cousin, the cousin I lived with my senior year in high school.

Where have we been the rest of our lives?

Family isn’t always blood, either, right? I also ran into–quite literally–one of my best friends from that same senior year. Heaven knows, there aren’t many of those for me, military brat that I was. She and I hadn’t had any contact since then. Almost 50 years ago.

Once we arrived at the gravesite for the service that day, my cousin pointed out our grandparents’ resting place, right next to that of this same uncle’s wife. My aunt, one of my favorite people ever. And this was the first time I had even seen their resting places, or even known where they were. I hadn’t attended their funerals, a fact that shames me now.

resk graves

Even sadder is that this familial amnesia continues for my adult daughter. She has little knowledge of these family members, something I would love to rectify with a road trip soon. A long one, to be sure, but better late than never.

Family ties have significance far beyond this moment, the one when we’re angry at a member of the group or are separated in other ways. They connect us to a tribe, a ready-made, hopefully well-nurtured, soft place to fall in times of trouble. These sturdy strings were never knitted together for me or my siblings. But it is up to me to get busy and start picking up the loose ends, don’t you think?

“The family. We were a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another’s desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together.” ~Erma Bombeck

Consider yourself warned…..

too late

Consider yourself warned…..

  • Eating junk food as your daily entree turns your body to junk. How could it not?
  • Joking about not exercising won’t be comical when you’re 70 and your legs and core won’t get you up off that comfy sofa any longer. It will be funny to those watching, though.
  • Smoking will be the death of you, one way or the other. Yes, YOU. Did you like taking that last breath, the one that just went in without any effort at all? If you smoke–yes, YOU–those breaths are numbered. Start counting.
  • Arteries in all kinds of places in your body can–and will–harden to the point that other important things CAN’T, guys. Yes, that one! Why doctors don’t harp on this with their male patients escapes me. If young men knew this NOW, they might take better care of themselves, because we know what gets their attention, above all else, right??
  •  That gorgeous “bad boy” will be bad for you, girls. Be careful, very careful, who you choose.
  • The trite platitude “It’s never too late” is a lie. Some mistakes can never be corrected, some missed opportunities will never circle back around for a second look. Live intentionally, not by the default position of “what will be, will be.” It made for a great tune, but the lyrics simply made its creator a rich man, not necessarily a happy one.

To reflect on your life with regret is devastating. Consider yourself warned, today, before it IS too late!

 

 

 

Putting sand back in the hourglass……

“It’s never too late.”

Um, yes it is. I hate to add fuel to anyone’s already overactive angst, but I’ve run into this gremlin way too much this week. It hides under the bed, waiting to snap at your ankles as you get out of the bed in the morning, or huddles in your closet ready to grab your wrist as you dress for an evening out with friends.

Time is a controlled substance and a commodity that doesn’t care what you do with it. It keeps ticking away as you make decisions, no matter how valid or valuable those choices are–or not.

When we are young, the end of our life is so far away, out there in the misty future, that we waste a lot of that controlled substance. People give us advice, but we don’t listen. None of us do. Maybe we even ask people we trust for guidance, but as the decision looms closer, we do what we want, often counter to that advice. And our own best interests.

But, in reality, we presuppose that time will never run out for us. The gremlin has bitten my ankles, though, and drawn blood this week. And I never did make it to the event I was dressing for as another wizened goblin  twisted my wrist to the point of tears.

Regret is the offspring of wasted time. Wasted chances. Unfortunate choices that will never be  cleaned up, decades later, as I now recognize where the road zigged and I should have….not.

I know better now. About many things. But my biggest regret is that the sands that trickled out of the hourglass of my life–my life, for God’s sake!–can never be funneled back into that delicate vessel.

Rather than end on that desolate note, here is what I would tell young(er) people from my vantage point today:

  • Behave as if today is your last day on this spinning top. Because it might be. Think about that with dedication every morning of your life, BEFORE the goblin snaps at you.
  • Spend time now considering what kind of life you want. What kind of partner is best for you. What career fits your goals and personality. And then set your course to get those things.
  • Don’t let other people–ANYONE–live your life for you. Make choices and decisions based on what you want for you, not what will make them happy. Seeking out advice in advance is advisable, but make sure these people don’t have a stake in the outcome of their words of wisdom. Consider if they have an agenda counter to yours, and then do what is best way for you to embrace the life you want, the one you spent valuable time unearthing. (Besides, some people are idiots, let’s face it.)
  • Spend time learning to love yourself. No matter your religious or spiritual beliefs understand that the fact that you are here is all that is necessary for you to be “good enough.” Period.
  • Have more fun. Laugh, be silly, watch clouds once in a while. Dance, or paint, or write, or blow bubbles every day. Whatever. Life is to be enjoyed, not endured. To realize this near the end of your life is excruciatingly dismal.

Believe me.

A……Haiket?

 A Haiku*—or two:

Being older means

looking back and wondering

which wrong turn mattered.

 
 

Would it have mattered

if I had not turned away

from this road—or that?

 
 

Or if I had let

my head-strong will and my heart

have equal footing?

 
 

Would it have mattered

if I had taken control

and embraced MY dream?

 
 

Being mature means

seeing with clearer vision,

what truly matters.

 
 

It can also mean

embracing a new vision—

Embracing one’s heart.

 
 

Today, I look back

and see that multiple paths

rose up before me.

 
 

Some say “no regrets.”

I say we don’t learn the truth

by ignoring it.

 
 

Being mature means

Finding peace from knowing

My life is…as is.

_________________________________________________________________________________

*Haiku is a very structured form of poetry that originated in Japan. I choose to write in the traditional style of Haiku for the discipline demanded from its structure:

First line = 5 (and ONLY 5) syllables

Second line = 7 (and ONLY 7) syllables

Third = 5 (and ONLY 5) syllables

Traditionally, also, Haiku is meant to be a snapshot of something in nature. A butterfly resting on a rose. The sunrise. A flower dancing in the evening breeze, awash in its mysterious scent. Any Haiku I have written to date follows this dictate for the most part.

For a writer who normally runs on and on (meaning me), this is first an exercise in being succinct and precise. I love it! In most cases, though, Haiku is simply ONE set of three lines: 5-7-5. Being me, though, I have chosen to string together a series of “Haikus” into one cohesive “Haiket.” There….I invented a new form of poetry!

I have also been indulgent here, and used this beautiful art form to reflect my soul as I move into–and through, because we are never done– the status of Active Master. We do not stop desiring or hoping or striving as we age. People who say we do are, well, boring and have probably always been that way.

We are simply more wrinkled as we do it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What will it be?

retirement_road

As I moved through the first day of my retirement, everyone kept asking me what I had done all day, as if my work day had to be supplanted with something. Right?

Our society is fueled by work. We learn a trade as young adults and then we practice that brand of work in order to earn the currency that is traded for it. That currency then is traded for our lives. Literally. We eat, we have a roof to sleep under, we clothe ourselves. So, we must then work some more to sustain the whole thing.

Is it any surprise to anyone, then, that we align our entire identity with the most visible talisman of our worth? The one that sustains and insures that the wheels stay on the track of our existence?

When we stop working, what happens to the whole system then? In the case of retirement (because there are people who intentionally jump ship earlier on purpose), we have traded all that currency as long as is necessary in our society, and hopefully have enough to sustain us throughout. Until we die.

Maybe that’s the rub. We realize that our end is breathing down our necks, a salivating beast that we cannot hope to outrun. Many people avoid retirement at all costs, fearing what lies on the other side of that alarm clock that jangles them awake at the crack of dawn.

Others fill it up with more work. We’ll see how I do.

“The harder you work, the harder it is to surrender.”
Vince Lombardi