Geosynchronicity
Costa Rica seems like it's retreating in the distance already. Last Friday I was walking all over Heredia in the rain. Today, it was the Albertsons.
I've been trying to figure out what was so appealing about just plain everyday life there. The town was old and worn, and dog poop on the sidewalk took some getting used to. ( And I thought it was gross to see dogs here using the public grass, lawns and parks for toilets. ) Good thing there was rain every afternoon!
So many of the things I take for granted, like lots and lots of hot water, driving a car, understanding every bit of the chatter I hear every day, were absent from daily life. Lora and I decided that one of the reasons we had trouble making connections the first few days is that we've grown very dependant on cell phones.
"Where are you? You're late!"
"I'm waiting for you 100 yards away on the OTHER side of the park"
We've become so used to being in constant touch, our inner compasses have gone dormant.
For the last 30 days I walked more, ate simpler, smaller meals, and on a very regular schedule. I wore the same few clothes I had with me over and over, (but of course in stunningly artistic and clever combinations). I didn't drive. I sat still for four hours a day concentrating on learning a whole new way to communicate.
The yogis keep telling us to live in the moment. It wasn't until my moments slowed down that I could start to see how it is done.
You can't live in the moment if you're always doing two things at once, driving while talking on the phone, hearing, but never listening, gulping down your meal while cleaning the kitchen or negotiating the freeway.
Time moves at a more human pace when you're walking to the store. If there is only 3 minutes of hot water, you appreciate and NOTICE those 3 minutes. If you need to leave the house to work on the computer, your time in front of the screen is more focused. Of course paying by the half hour makes this even more imperative.
Almost nothing in our everyday world supports this way of life. We drive everywhere, we use and use and buy and buy stuff. Abiltiy to multi task has almost become a yardstick of character. Even the food we eat and the way we eat it has become just another chore to find some way around.
Last week the dinner table was crowded with people, all of us talking with loving and focused concentration on what each person was saying, trying to truly understand one another.
After dinner, Chris and John and I walked to a corner restaurant and had a beer, and then walked slowly home under the street lights of our neighborhood.
I want to keep this Costa Rican feeling alive and growing, and not have it just fade into a quaint memory. I promise I will reset my inner compass.
After all, I don't really need to bounce a signal thousands of miles to an orbiting satallite in order to keep an appointment with a friend.
I've been trying to figure out what was so appealing about just plain everyday life there. The town was old and worn, and dog poop on the sidewalk took some getting used to. ( And I thought it was gross to see dogs here using the public grass, lawns and parks for toilets. ) Good thing there was rain every afternoon!
So many of the things I take for granted, like lots and lots of hot water, driving a car, understanding every bit of the chatter I hear every day, were absent from daily life. Lora and I decided that one of the reasons we had trouble making connections the first few days is that we've grown very dependant on cell phones.
"Where are you? You're late!"
"I'm waiting for you 100 yards away on the OTHER side of the park"
We've become so used to being in constant touch, our inner compasses have gone dormant.
For the last 30 days I walked more, ate simpler, smaller meals, and on a very regular schedule. I wore the same few clothes I had with me over and over, (but of course in stunningly artistic and clever combinations). I didn't drive. I sat still for four hours a day concentrating on learning a whole new way to communicate.
The yogis keep telling us to live in the moment. It wasn't until my moments slowed down that I could start to see how it is done.
You can't live in the moment if you're always doing two things at once, driving while talking on the phone, hearing, but never listening, gulping down your meal while cleaning the kitchen or negotiating the freeway.
Time moves at a more human pace when you're walking to the store. If there is only 3 minutes of hot water, you appreciate and NOTICE those 3 minutes. If you need to leave the house to work on the computer, your time in front of the screen is more focused. Of course paying by the half hour makes this even more imperative.
Almost nothing in our everyday world supports this way of life. We drive everywhere, we use and use and buy and buy stuff. Abiltiy to multi task has almost become a yardstick of character. Even the food we eat and the way we eat it has become just another chore to find some way around.
Last week the dinner table was crowded with people, all of us talking with loving and focused concentration on what each person was saying, trying to truly understand one another.
After dinner, Chris and John and I walked to a corner restaurant and had a beer, and then walked slowly home under the street lights of our neighborhood.
I want to keep this Costa Rican feeling alive and growing, and not have it just fade into a quaint memory. I promise I will reset my inner compass.
After all, I don't really need to bounce a signal thousands of miles to an orbiting satallite in order to keep an appointment with a friend.
posted by Karen | 5:53 PM
1 Comments:
We are going to slow the world down again next week. Long walks, slow conversations, no television, big sky, cool evenings on the porch. We can even turn off the cells! We have whistles,,we can just whistle for each other!
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