Beauty and the Break

On a completely different note form medicine, healing, and traditional practices, i have spent the last couple of weeks in Costa Rica on Vacation. Thats right, the kind where you lay on the beach all day long and dont even have time to read your book. Costa Rica has been an interesting contrast to the first months of my trip which were peppered with brilliantly colored indiengous women, children, and their artisanry. Costa Rica, in contrast, is a country that has greatly suceeded in the realm of tourism, so much so that my sister and I have taken to calling various areas that we have visited "little america". One of the reasons that CR has been so successful is that the country sits within a rich and varied environement with awe inspiring natural wonders. One of the best moments that I shared with my family on this portion of my journey was my mother waking me up from a deep sleep at 4:30 in the morning to behold unbeleivably red, molten lava pouring down the sides of Volcan Arenal in northern costa rica. My impression of CR is that one visits it not to immerse themself in a magical, colorful, different culture, but to enjoy the natural beauty that has developed into a tourist industry. Rather than maintain an expectation that you are actually leaving the united states of america, I profess that it is better to "dive" into the nature of this country in order to experience it. How better to do this than to push your own personal limits to commune with nature.
To give a bit of background, my sister, Sara, is a hardcore adventurer and advocate of nature and best sister ever. After discussions with her I have been able to develop a new philosophy and understanding of how to interact with nature, a philosophy that has required me to rethink my own phobias and anxieties...I call this new philsophy surfing. Anyone who knows me well would assume that I would not surf, that the shear terror of facing a large wave crashing down on my head would be inconceivable. My first session surfing I carried a ridiculously large long board into the ocean, which turned around to beat me as I battled the white wash of waves breaking in front of me in Mal Pais on the southern nicoya penninsula (bruises to prove it!). I spent 2&30 hours gliding on white wash waves (the foamy stuff) and attempting to stand up. After three surf sessions I was able to stand on my board for approximately 1.2 seconds. Yet I still hadn´t paddled out behind the break, I still hadnt caught what is called a green wave, and I was still anxious about the power of the ocean...but I was out there, but i wasnt really surfing. Today, Sara and I traveled to Tamarindo to get some morning surf. We woke up at 6 am, iced coffee in hand, armed for our one hour drive over intermittently paved roads to reach the beach. Its incredible how waves can look docile and small from the shore, and how powerful they are when they are crashing on top of you as you paddle with all of your might, certain that you are swimming in place. It may then seem as if it is by some christmas miracle you end up on behind the break. From there you can sit on your surfboard and embrace the shear beauty of the ocean...you know she is big, strong, and much more powerful than you, but somehow you have finally connected with the spirit of the sea. The first time you get completely pummled by the wave, swallowing at minimum thirty five gallons of salt water, expereincing a complete nasal irrigation, and then paddle back out for more, you are living the philosophy that the ocean yes, is stronger than you, but you want to be with her for the few short seconds that she actually locks onto your surfboard and draws you towards the sandy beach, only to swallow you up in the white wash again. This is what my sister calls communing with nature. I paddled back out for more...thanks sis!

happy holicays and new years! surfs up!