Life With Toast

Expecting to Believe

2012-01-11T18:35:00.000-08:00

What happens when we believe in ourselves, in something, or someone?
Often when faced with a challenge we bring doubt before inspiration can arise. It is easy to see ourselves not able to cope with the situation due to past events and current struggles. Somewhere in our minds there is a creeping doubt that rationalizes our planning to head away from conquering what lies in front of us. It becomes all to familiar to hesitate from stepping outside of what we have known and where we have gone, not seeing a new path to tread or opportunity to arise.
Again and again, we set our expectations to slow our step. Think again about what I have said, for in each situation there is one common thread. More often than not, it is ourselves that hold back the flood of growth and progress that surrounds us. "It's too late for me", "I've never done that so I wouldn't be good", or "I can't" are all prophetic words that carry us in a direction. At times chance gets the best of the situation and you succeed anyway, but you certainly weren't helping the situation.
I fear we underestimate the power of expectation. Contemplate how often we set expectations for ourselves; each day when we wake, every event or activity we partake in, and our lives as a whole. Whether we are aware of it or not, our memories of the past and feelings of the present can set a vision of our future, a vision that molds and twists as we move along, shifting the sands of the day as we take each step.
Hear the science behind my words. You've heard of the placebo effect, but what what extend do you know its effects? How about for arthroscopic knee surgery?
http://www.nejm.org/doi/full/10.1056/NEJMoa013259
The New England Journal of Medicine published this article several years back that shook the foundation of the surgeons involved. In a study designed to test which procedure of a knee surgery was most effective, Dr. Bruce Moseley did a blind study of his two techniques, and a placebo control group. Shockingly, a difference could not be found between the three groups. Meaning that the placebo group showed equal improvement as those who had the surgery.

Imagine walking into a clinic to get a surgery, noticing the medical atmosphere; doctors, clean rooms and solemn faces. You know that you are in good hands, these experts have been trained for years to treat you injuries and pain. You are given the protocol and how the surgery will help you recover. You say your prayers or give your thoughts and the antitheses are administered, the world fades. As you come back you can see an incision crosses your knee, and comfort comes in the thought you have been 'fixed' or 'treated' as you lay in a spotted gown on a white hospital bed. Your brain responses, the central nervous systems feeds to your body and you feel the healing process the doctors have started. Barely able to walk on your own two feet just this morning, the thought of mobility is exciting and closer than ever. Time goes on and you regain strength, dexterity, and you are grateful for the surgery that got you back on your feet. Years pass and the idea of hobbling around seems long ago.
Then you get a call from the doctor, chills shoot across your body, you were part of the placebo group, you had no surgery. Looking down at your knee, you know the difference, you can FEEL a difference, it's very real, but it wasn't the surgery, it was you. The entire process was interpreted by your brain as a expectation for this event that would benefit you, a surgery that would give you something you were missing. Everything was just as you imagined, the setting, the doctor, the room, even the incision. For all you know, the surgery did happen. But it didn't.
Do not think this is magic, a miracle, or something superhuman. It is the power that lays between our ears, the patients in the study were not exceptional in any way aside from their belief in what would happen to their body. It was not a angel that came and touched their knees, it was a physical, neurological process that set their bodies in a different direction than it once was.
This study is one of many that shows the capabilities of expectation. Everyday these expectations are set by our thoughts and cemented by our actions. The power of this idea has not been wringed out as many are scientists and physicians are hesitant to push the envelope on the topic. But this is inspiration, for the empowerment our expectations may hold is astounding, and the more I can learn and spread about the phenomenon, the better.

2011-11-20T19:48:00.000-08:00

This is the time,
when else would there be?
This is the only place you can be,
striving for it to be somewhere else can distract easier than it can assist.
As a bird who can only use the current around him to navigate,
we can only mold the current moment to our desire.

Even, imagine, a convict staring at the bunk above him, white walls surrounding him.
Daydreaming of elsewhere eases the sharp pain of reality,
but only amplifies the numbness he has come to accept.
Since he is imagining somewhere else, it only makes the whitewash and dry colors around him fade farther.
No place could be more different, the clock reaches slowly to turn the corner.
While his mind drifts to his other place, his cell mate stays where he is.
They sit in the same lonely cell, but they are seeing different things.
Not again, his mate thinks, he will never return, accepting the situation he has placed himself in,
While the original continues to think of what he will do when he gets out, avoiding any thought of the present.
He see's not what is around him but what he wants to see, delaying reality until he is set free.
But what is learned by ignoring what is around you? How can this man expect to make a change,
when he does not accept he is wrong now?

As hard as it may be,
as aggravating, frustrating and powerful as the past may pull us into a different view,
we are the navigators of our perceptions, only we can make that final choice to see the beauty,
or wade in the filth.
To grab on a opportunity, or keep walking with our eyes focused in a different direction.
It may be one of the hardest mental challenges we face, but to see the world as it is now,
unaffected by our past events, is to set ourselves free.
To not dwell on what we desire, but appreciate what we have, and see how we can formulate our own plan.
And sail with the wind that we have.

The Day's Question

2011-08-25T23:31:00.000-07:00

*Play song for full effect

The horizon brightens to the east,
How will the day unfold?

Are the worries of my past going to chase me?
Will the shadows of the future cling to my legs?
Or can I break free? Open the day to any experience?
Those who may try and drag me down, will they slip off?
Or will their grasp take hold, their influence stronger than mine?
Can I control the air around me, or will my masts have no direction?

Are the problems going to start, or will the opportunities rise?
Will the ups and downs be taken with the same awareness?
Or can only one side of life be learned from?
Those who think like me, would I like to be around them?
Or will I stray to what others would like me to think?
Can I build my own day, or will my masts have no direction?

The sun dims to the west,
How did my day unfold?

Keep Looking Up

2011-08-23T13:20:00.000-07:00

The most important image ever taken, the Hubble Ultra Deep Field

For the time being, we are the only ones out there.
There is no life that we will be able to reach, or even talk to, in our lifetimes.
Our solar system gives hints of what was or will be,
Giving life a chance for the day we can no longer stay here.
For throughout the history of man we have fought,
argued, and bashed heads with little times of peace.
We have spilled blood on every continent and every country,
taking lives prematurely due to our hatred for one another.
Yet what is this for?
Resources, power and glory one might say,
but taking a closer look at the cosmic ocean our precious Earth floats in,
we must see that we are nothing more than a speck on the shore.
There is no way we can fully comprehend the size of space,
the trillions of stars that span nearly fifty billion light years across the universe.
Or the number of galaxies that exists, twirling and spinning in the vast seas between one another.
No, I certainly can't comprehend the beauty and the elegance that is contained with out universe,
the beautiful and diverse tapestry that exists even in the largest of scales,
and the smallest of molecules, living in our blood and our tears.
It is a dreamers dream to see the universe, the nebula's and shining stars,
but that too will never be possible with our futile technology.
Yet there is something we can do,
we can stare into the night sky,
see the faces of our ancestors,
the great age we imagine our planet to be,
and see just how small we are,
imagine a expanding valley of stars that stretches farther than we can possibly take in,
and we may touch the edge of the life that is around us.
This feeling; being in the fish eye of the cosmos,
brings me joy and peace no vacation, television show or product ever could.
It makes me wonder why we fight, hate and discriminate
For if we could see the lines of the universe stretched across the sky,
and our minuscule existence played out in less than a flash in the universes grand storm,
our jaws would be dropped, and our minds opened.
We would see the grandest ideas of any human to ever live,
is not beyond a fraction of a blink in the time of the cosmic sea,
not the slightest splash in its waves is found for our ideologies and utopias we force on one another.
Yet we are often too caught up in our everyday problems,
to feel the size we are,
and be humbled in our morality.
Instead we fret and tumble over our problems and griefs,
become frustrated with the days endless hassles,
forgetting how to breathe, how to see life with simple clarity.
What would happen,
if everyone looked up and had these thoughts,
saw their faces in the abyss,
and looked back to those around them?
Would there be more love and understanding,
or would we continue to destroy,
all that has made us be?

Update: Montezuma/Santa Teresa (Nicoya Peninsula)

2011-08-09T15:32:00.000-07:00

Pops at Playa Grande

200 feet away some local guys about my age give me the surfers’ wave (thumb and pinky), I look around, back to the friends I made from Portland, and I hear “happiness is out there, just jump and find it!” I look down at the waterfall and take a plunge. Falls always seem longer from the top, but this was a pretty good one with at least a few seconds of free fall, good thing my “day trip” friends got it on video. Coming from Manuel Antonio, the Disney Land of Costa Rica, this small, cultural beach town is just what the doctor ordered.

During the green season this part of Costa Rica is only reachable by the brave souls in 4x4’s, atv’s, and boats. Being directly across the peninsula, I find myself in a water taxi on a beautiful Pacific morning. The boat stops in front of a floating brown bob in the water. At first I think it is another log, stranded in the sea but at a closer inspection I see it is a sea turtle relaxing on the surface! “Can I go in?” I ask immediately, not letting a chance to swim with a beauty like this slip through my finger. “You can try, amigo, but before you even jump, she will be gone” the driver says, shortly followed by her bubbles on the surface and an empty sea once more. We pass by several more of these majestic creatures soaking up the rays as well as some other delights: a bright spotted marlin that seems to appear from nowhere and leave just as quickly, a family of jumping fish with a manta ray on their tail, and a pod of dolphins that left me pinching myself. If that wasn’t enough the approaching peninsula looked like a scene from Jurassic Park, and before I knew it we were beaching in Montezuma, located on the end of the Nicoya Peninsula.

After lugging my stuff to the top of the hill, I find myself, along with a couple of Welsh friends I made on the boat, in somewhat of a jungle and at the hostel we’ll be staying at, Luz en el cielo or light in the sky. After dropping our bags and having a beer, we decide to hit the white beaches and go for a walk. “Is it cool to walk around town barefoot?” I ask one of the employees, “Of course!” he laughs “No shirt, no shoes, no problem man.” I get the feeling I am going to like this place. Before we can dip our feet in the sand, we walk through the quaint town of Montezuma. Although it only encompasses a couple of square blocks, there is more culture here than in the sizable towns of Quepos and Manuel Antonio combined. A true Costa Rican beach town, Montezuma gives of chill vibes and good times from every building and business. Open walled stores with the occasional tour center flank both sides of the slightly paved road. Restaurants advertise live music while merchants roll out their towels of handmade tourist delights. Around the corner I see a brightly colored building with a mural of a waterfall, the ocean and tropical birds across the side. “Escuela central” it reads, the main school for Montezuma no bigger than the average fast food joint, I wonder how many kids go here.

Then the pavement ends and the beach present itself to us. Blue-torquise water is only plagued by the dirt that is present this time of the year, crashing over rocks on either side of the road. We are passed by several local surfers and the smell of charcoal drifts over from a Tico barbeque. There are no entrance fees to this beach, all are welcome to walk the shore, watch the surfers and explore the coast. About a mile further we are confronted with a slice of paradise. I literally stop every three steps to pick up rocks and shells of a smorgasbord of colors and textures, while a small inlet holds a surprise up ahead. A swimming hole of three light blue colors leaks into the ocean from the falling rocks and little waterfalls carried from the river it once was. On the other side is a Zen rock garden; dozens of stacked rocks, flaunting the colors that struck me just a minute ago. Where did this place come from? I couldn’t have thought of a better place to relax if I tried. Half an hour of swimming, climbing around and taking pictures and I am about ready to leave when I meet a new friend. A black lab with no collar but a full belly runs up to me and places his head on my knee, can I take him home? For the next hour we walk the beaches, he, who I named pops after his age and seemly rule over the area, scouts ahead for any food and glances back to make sure I am keeping up. When we have to take our separate ways I let him know if I ever had a black lab I will name him/her Zuma after such a fine fellow and the town he resides.

The next morning I head to the waterfalls that I keep hearing about, hoping I will not be disappointed as I was in Manuel Antonio. I walk past an old Tico hanging in a hammock and can hear the crashing water in the distance. Around him is a tiny house, the electric cable hanging off a branch and leading haphazardly through a window. Grandkids run around him as he reads the paper and the smell of a freshly made meal makes it way to my nose. I can’t help but notice how happy this simple family looks.
There have been several times this trip that I have felt sick, only one being about my physical health. The others have come from a sense of cultural genocide; tourism slaughtering little communities with posters, shuttles and advertisements in bold, English words. I found myself thinking about the lack of culture in these towns like La Fortuna, Manuel Antonion and Jaco. Why did I come to Costa Rica to read menus in English, get asked ‘whats up?’ and feel bad for the locals who have lost some of their culture? Tourism here has been a double bladed sword for Tico’s, as it gives them a steady and at times heavy income as well as publicity for their country and beauty, but also takes over towns, making English an almost universal language and draining the local color from a once vivid landscape. As someone studying the life of the people here, this disturbs me. Furthermore, coming from a small town, it makes me sick, and being one of these tourists makes me feel guilty and a little dirty. I try and stay away from the real touristy towns but there is no total escape yet. It is here, while I take in this little shack on the way to the waterfalls, I take a deep breath, sit and smile; instead of taking a negative attitude towards these towns, I started to think back and appreciate what there was and expand on it. In Manuel Antonio the curvy hills are stacked with attractions and tours but walk on the dirt road and find where the culture has run off to. Small grass fields fill with a fifty year old age range looking to play the national sport with their feet while little houses spread their clothes for the beaming sun to dry out. Dogs prowl with their noses searching for scraps and children play on their tails. Here mothers have been making handmade meals for longer than the tourism has been around, and their mothers before them. These people appreciate the beauty around them and live simply, not looking for a Nordstrom sale or trip to the big city.

I take another deep breath and think back to a time of desks and whiteboards.

About a year and a half ago I took a Buddhism class taught by a small, soft spoken Japanese woman. That class opened my eyes to a religion which resonated with me in ways that others had not before. I was not going to pack my bags and head to a monastery but I saw practical uses for this ancient practice. One day during lecture, we were talking about materialism and its link to the mind. In the understated way she approached everything, my professor told the story of a man who found himself in luxury and the lesson that he learned. This man was given a very nice house, with all the food, entertainment and things he could desire. But soon his mind was left wandering and he became lost, searching in the items around him for the happiness he no longer felt. Until one day he abandoned the house and everything that came with it. He traveled to the mountains, to a place where the closest water was half a mile away up a steep hill. He lived in a small cave, one ridden with fleas and not tall enough for him to stand. But with him were others who believed the same as he did, and he was in bliss. He found himself through meditation, spirituality and journeys into the mountains. He didn’t need those material items, for that only fulfilled the physical needs, but in the cave he was mentally happy, creating a feeling no item could match.

What do these people need? From what I can see, family, food, and friends are enough. They cannot afford a Ferrari but they can get themselves where they need to go, which is never too far away. Instead they are rich with social activities, common beliefs, and simple needs. These needs are easy to meet, making them happy with little effort. It was at this point that I remembered another reading, something from the book The Peaceful Warrior. Simply, it was; Happiness= satisfaction/desires, meaning if we can create simple needs to be met, happiness will never be far away. I couldn’t help but be in awe of how many Tico’s have fully realized this equation and use it most likely with little knowledge of the wisdom it holds.

The ideas of creating simple needs to enjoy the resulting simple happiness and being aware of mental wellbeing instead of focusing on material desires creates a paradox. The message is to live simply, but the thinking it takes to fully understand is deeper than the idea. Without growing up in a culture like the one cultivated in many areas of Costa Rica, appreciating a simple lifestyle may seem counter intuitive. Indeed, the advertisements and messages sent in the US many times preach the opposite. On television many commercials represent wealthy and successful people enjoying the finer things, news websites post articles about the highest paying degrees and ways to make more money, and possibly the worst is public education teaching on a format to execute not create, and finish in front of understand. This puts us in a situation where we often must create our own simplicity, we must think deeper. If happiness is something we desire, then simple happiness is the easiest route to achieve it. But to access this simplicity often takes effort to sort through the pressures put on by the media and culture. Thus the paradox is required; to be simply happy, thinking deeply is the route to reveal it. While others may stress about their jobs, paychecks or any other current situation, must you have to as well? If your peers are dropping everything to be successful, do you? Thinking on the surface, the answer is yes, of course you must do the same since that is the trend all around. But looking a little deeper, we are the ones in control of our stress and degrees of appreciation. Your friend may not enjoy the misty field as you walk, their eyes fixed on their smart phone or complaining about the work to come, but you certainly can. What is stopping simple appreciation? The awareness to appreciate, the insight that comes from thinking a step deeper.
The first wall of rocks I encounter has a wide face of water splashing off of it and into several small pools at the bottom. I trek across its slippery ridge and up a small river before heading into the thicket and arrive at the bigger falls. About half an hour more of respectable hiking takes me to a thunderous sanctuary that is lightly inhabited for the time being. About 60-80 feet above me is the first of three waterfalls, and at the bottom I swim in a large pool that could hold a few hundred people. The rock walls hug the edge, and with a little precaution I make my way under the falls themself before taking a deep breath and jumping into the current, turning my back to the water and enjoying the warm day. I hear of a swing at the next waterfall and make my way back up and around a steep path that requires some semi rock climbing to a small but more secluded second and third fall. Here I meet the locals about my age that seem to be pro’s at being stupidly dangerous and laughing about it. “Here, every day is adventure” one guy tells me “we can swim, surf, climb around and jump off waterfalls, life is always fun.” I also meet a couple from Portland, Ore who have just quit their jobs to travel Central America for an indefinite amount of time. “We’ve done this before, seems like we can’t work every day for too long before getting the jitters and traveling.” David, a professional waiter tells me, “sounds like you have a pretty sweet gig here dude, and everyone seems friendly, just wish it wasn’t so expensive.” But this is free, a full day of adventure and a little danger just outside of town, and as I climb back up the waterfall and grab my bag, I feel for once I didn’t need to ask a Tico what they do to get away, because here they already are.

“This is a small community (Montezuma), everyone knows each other and there are few problems. Growing up about twenty of us were good friends that always knew where to go and see each other, we didn’t even have to say anything, we just knew.” This is Luis, the captain on the boat that I am today. It has been four weeks and I am on my first tour guided activity. We are on Tortuga Island, just off the shore about an hour boat ride from Montezuma surrounded by landscape that once again makes me think dinosaurs must live there. I have just chased down the boat which was trying to leave without me, as I was the last one to come back from snorkeling. Two little rocks just off the island in the big blue held over fifty types of fish that I drooled into my snorkel over as well as eels, crabs and in general sea life galore. “Life here is very Tranquilo” Luis continues. Tranquilo, I keep hearing that word from happy Ticos; in the north near Arenal and Monteverde with their spirituality and connection with nature, on the coast near Judy’s house in Potrero, Flamingo and the laid back cowboy lifestyles and now in the rugged Nicoya Peninsula, where adventure and beauty are omnipresent. Every place seems to have its own stamp but this chilled out, worry free attitude that seems to come straight out of a Bob Marley song permeates through all of these happy places… Are these the roots of Tico happiness?

Santa Teresa from afar

“Surf, eat, surf, sleep” Reads a t-shirt thrown on the back of a longboard, here in Santa Teresa where surfing is tourism, the local past time and a world destination. The Quicksilver international tour was here just last week, but even without the big names there are huge groups that put their backs against the sun and stomachs on wax in hopes of catching the next wave. But that seems to be the biggest problem here at a surf mecca in a hard to reach spot on the Nicoya, finding your own spot to surf the pristine waves. Little shops and restaurants scatter the dirt roads while the presence of the ocean is never more than a look around the corner away. Eventually a few Europeans I befriended rented a couple of surfboards from the hostel and convinced me (it took a lot…) to give this surfing thing a shot. Fortunately I wasn’t the only newbie at the water riding sport and was given a brief overview before jumping on the board. After a few pitiful paddles I was standing on the board, for at least 5 seconds! With my mission accomplished and sinuses copiously cleaned, I sat back for the sunset.

I hear a Jack Johnson song playing and I find it quite appropriate. He must have come to a town like this to write songs telling us to slow down and relax, sleep in, and of course, surf. The one road that shoots across a few small towns starts at the tip of the peninsula and ends at a natural spot; where a river heads towards the ocean and bears no bridge to cross, leaving travel only to the dry season and forcing me to either take private transit for 4 hours or public for about a day and a half (with lay overs). But that is something Tico’s just aren’t worried about, the road may be winding and out of the way, but if you get there, what else matters?

Update: Manuel Antonio

2011-08-08T16:07:00.000-07:00

Manuel Antonio "reserve", and their pay phone

Imagine a ski resort that needs money due to the lack of snow on their slopes. They decide to invest in some dynamite to break a couple of hillsides on top of the mountain. But before they know it they have caused an avalanche, covering all the way to the top of their pristine resort. That’s what I feel has happened here in Manuel Antonio.

5:00am, Jenny, Judith’s neighbor, is sweet enough to drop me off at the bus stop a few miles away, I tell her she is crazy and drop a few dollars on her seat without her noticing. Manuel Antonio is 130 miles (as the crow flies) from the house in Potrero, so it couldn’t take that long to get there, right? Well my first bus ride of the day takes me in the completely opposite direction, heading north to Liberia. The roads here go in all directions except in straight, causing me to go out of the way to go anywhere. What is said to take a hour and a hour usually takes a little over two hours, but this time it took four and a half.. The first delay came as the bus driver stopped at what I have to assume was his house, for about 25 minutes he is in and out, picking up some groceries and some other stuff I couldn’t make out, so I lean back and close my eyes. I get shaken by the bus coming to a stop. Everyone stands up and the bus driver says some really fast Spanish that I take as, “everyone off the bus!”

So there I am at 6:45am, almost two hours down already, standing in who knows where, Costa Rica, with a bakery behind me and about fifty Ticos under a bus shelter waiting for the next one to come for Liberia. Half an hour goes by and everyone stands for the incoming bus, crowding onto the road itself. My eyes widen, but not as much as the bus drivers as I see the bus is almost overflowing with people. About twenty get off and the line to get on is a pushing, flowing mess. About ¾ of us get on and I am not one, as I was not going to cut a family to get a place to stand. So obviously I head to the bakery and get a treat. I have to say there is no place I have been with more bakeries than Costa Rica, making my sweet tooth very satisfied with the selections in nearly every town. But soon my pastry is gone and so is another half an hour. The next bus comes nearly full but room to grab a rail. Within 5 minutes there are close to a hundred people on this bus; forcing me to take off my backpack so someone can squeeze behind me.

I look at my watch, 9:30. I am boarding the bus for Puntarenas, three and a half hours to the south via a giant green school bus. I take a seat by the window and start doing some math. So 75km in 4 ½ hours….

After fading in and out of sleep, experiencing a bus twilight-zone, I decide to take in some of the scenery. On my trip to San Jose I saw the landscape transform from tourist spots on the coast to cow country to the urban sprawl of San Jose. On my way north I saw the land being used to its fullest; sugar, mangoes, livestock, and ungodly amounts of coffee beans. But on my way south along the Nicoya Peninsula, the land is not fertile enough for coffee or major crops. I do not see many pastures full of cows or chicken coops. I have not seen a house with insulation in over two hours as I approach Puntarenas. But the poverty has beauty; shanty town villages huddle around the brown rivers, patching their roofs with a multitude of different shades and textures of sheet metal and whatever extraneous parts that can cover a hole. Old men smile under fruit trees and peel some apples. The kids run with sliced up shirts and ragged shoes, but with smiles and joy on their faces, and of course, there are tons of friendly honks.

Puntarenas has not been blessed by the past century. Once a booming port city and former capital of the Guanacaste area, Putarenas was crushed as barges and ships headed to new ports to the south, leaving the city to fend for itself. Its location is prime; a small inlet on the Nicoya Peninsula with water on both sides. But it has the feel of a beat down and dirty city, it is obvious to see there have been problems of late. A neon sign reads 41 degrees Celsius (105 F) as I wipe sweat off my brow. I am broiling and lost, once again no street signs can be found. So I ask a taxi driver where I can get a bus to Manuel Antonio, “It’s Saturday” he starts “the office is closed, let me call my boss, I can drive you there real cheap, a good price just for you” yeah, I’m sure it will be a steal. “Alright amigo, 90,000 colones for you , what ya say?” he says excitedly. I literally laugh “That’s almost $200! Can you see me, I may be American, but I’m a student, no tengo mucho dinero.” I respond. “Alright, alright 70,000 colones, just for you. What ya say”

As I board the bus, I look at the time, 1:15pm. 70,000 colones, I’ve already been hustled once this trip, not happening again, I’ll pay $2 and wait a little longer. But there is no place to sit, so I sneak behind some standing people and sit on the back stairwell and pull out my book. Three hours is a breeze at this point and after some music and a snack I’m in Quepos, only a twenty minute bus ride left! But something doesn’t seem right, all I see is tourism. This place is so hard to get to, how is this possible?? To my dismay, Manuel Antonio seems worse, so I check into my hostel and try to figure out what I will do, it’s now 4:30pm, 11 ½ hour day.

I meet a group of Americans teaching English who invited me out with them. I am reminded of the small world we inhabit as one girl is from the Tri Cities area of Eastern Washington and another is a stundent at Pacific Lutheran University in Tacoma and knows my “brother” Bernie who goes there as well. Unfortunately we had all been up for 18 hours so we decided to hit the sack after burritos. The next day we head out for the reason I came: Manuel Antonio national park. The town of Manuel Antonio is a long strip right on the public beach filled with Ticos and tourists alike. Every shop is filled with little toys and Imperial (national beer) shirts, every restaurant is in English and snorkels, jet skis and beach chairs read “rent me”. We walk down a narrow dirt corridor that leads to the park entrance, again filled with shops and Tico’s saying “good day, special price for you”, I walk a little faster. At the entrance the people I am with decide to leave “It is $10 and we just want to lie on the beach, come meet us later?”, “sounds good!” I can’t pass up the beauty I have been hearing about, although $10 seems steep. The woman selling tickets tells me there are no maps of the park and the trails are easy to find. So I ask one of the employees, “where is the hardest hike you have?” “Hardest? Well they are all the pretty much the same, but go to the end of this road and head left, it’s a nice and easy path that should take about an hour to the top of a hill.” Nice and easy is the hardest, what kind of national park is this?

A half an hour later I am on top of the ‘hill’, which is mostly paved and barely has me in a sweat even though it is over 80 F out, hiking for Disney Land adventurers. The view is nice so I appreciate this park for what it is and head to one of its beach. I see a small peninsula of rocks and head out for it. In and out of a couple more of the same and I am alone with a beautiful view of the surrounding hills and rocks that scatter the sea. This is what I’m talking about I think as I take in the views and crashing surf. But coming in is a familiar sight for me; rain, and lots of it. So I start to turn back and I am assaulted by a downpour, once again soaking me to the bone, good thing I brought my rain jacket.

Walking around the town more I am just not getting the Tico vibe from this town. I feel like I am part of a sponge that is squeezing out all of the local culture that is here in this beautiful place. This does feel like Disney Land with everything being advertised as magical and overpriced food. “With all the tourism here, are the locals still happy?” I ask the hostel employee, a friendly Tico named Carlos “Oh yeah, no problem. It is something you get used to, and if you want to be with people you know, there are always places that the tourists don’t know about.” Well I certainly can understand that, if my town was run by tourism I would want some local hang out spots as well, but he is not going to tell me where that is. The rain continues to come down; I am ready to move on to the other side of the peninsula and Montezuma.

I decide to head back into Quepos and get a good walk around to see what there is to see. But it is Sunday, and everything is closed except bars and restaurants. Seeing a light hue come over to roofs around me I head to the waterfront; a paved walkway that is full of Tico’s riding bikes, walking with their families, and enjoy the fading sun. A sand bar provides a perfect picnic spot for a few families and hopeful fishermen. The beauty is immense, and smiles are around. Maybe this is how they are happy with the tourists; appreciating what they have. On my way back to the bus stop I run into a soccer field and filled bleachers. High school age kids don bright NIKE cleats and spiked haircuts, strutting their stuff before the game starts. Once the game starts, yelling from the crowd follows shortly after as the players sprint across the dirt with scattered grass field. The goals have no net and there is only one ref trying his best to keep up. They quarrel like it’s the Premier League, yelling and arguing over nearly every play. I glance over and see the subs place an order in a Soda that is on the opposite end of the field, Costa Rican futbol.

When I get back to the hostel I am struck by a beautiful sunset. Instead of running for my camera, I take a seat to appreciate all the nuances. There is no way my camera could catch the light mist on the valley across from me, at the foot a cliff covered by cloud and flanked by rolling hills. No way, not the array of lights scattered across the horizon by the sun, I count 8 shades of white, yellow and blue. Maybe this is how happiness is found here; the beauty can never be taken away.

Update: The North Country

2011-07-26T19:12:00.000-07:00

My friend for the day in front of Arenal

It is 530am in San Jose, the sun has kissed the hills surrounding the city and the vendors are opening their gates to the morning commuters. I am sitting in the bus terminal with an empanada in my hand (so cheap and so good) waiting for the driver to open the doors for us heading to La Fortuna. After about an hour or so and we have left the outer limits of the capitol and I see a sign that says “El norte, nuestra tierra” (The north is our land) and as we climb higher into the mountains I see sprawls of coffee hills and cow pastures. Towns turn smaller and smaller, into communities with no more than a grocery/mini mart while houses come harder to spot, with more shacks, sheds, and cows than anything else.

The air has been filled with a relaxing breeze as we escape from the urban capital. The farther we get away, the more friendly honks and exchanges I see. I counted 10 honks and hellos from our bus driver in one little town we drove past, a great contrast from the honks I heard in San Jose; one coming every second you held up traffic or in the way. Here and in Guanacaste as well, honks are used as a friendly call, with two short beeps I could hear ‘hey! Goodmorning, hope life is going well’.

More rolling hills and farms and we were in La Fortuna, at the base of volcano Arenal, one of most active in Central America. I was not impressed with what could be a very cool and hip town, La Fortuna was a complete tourist hotspot with dozens of ‘souvenir’ shops and expensive hotel/resorts. So I was thankful to get the transport to my hostel quickly, I already had enough of the crowded streets and merchant shops this trip. Essence Arenal was the name of the hostel I was to stay at, and once we arrived I took a deep breath and was in heaven. On the opposite side of the volcano and perched on a hill overlooking the conical volcano and its gigantic lake, this place was a real escape. The owner, Kelly, was a really helpful guy, making sure every person had every detail perfected for their stay. I stayed in a tent/room that had a cement floor and a double sized bed. I immediately took several shots of the mostly clear day and started on a hike. Up and up I went. Past a little Tico community and over another lookout with tourists riding some horses while others grazed some grass on the hill (the horses that is). There I met up with my friend for the day; a beagle with a hanging tongue and a deep cut on his side. We continued on the horse trail and into a forest filled with huge butterflies and an array of sounds coming from the bush. For several miles we hiked until we ran into a farm that contained enough no trespassing signs to turn away the dog. But I knew a great view was around the corner so I scrambled under the barb wire and took a look. It was getting cloudy but I could see edges of valleys cutting into each other and streams popping out of their hills. I later learned on a clear day one can see to Lake Nicaragua and the surrounding volcanoes.

The next day I went for a hike with two Swiss women and two Frenchmen up Cerro Chato, a dormant volcano next door to Arenal. The lagoon in the volcanoes’ crater was worth the trip and the spring river (100 degrees F) was a perfect end. But our driver to and from the activities that day may have been the highlight. A bright and full bellied man, Eduardo was more than happy to talk about his people and his views on happiness. “Here we have no problems, life is simple because of it, we are happy” he tells me. “We live in a beautiful place, with volcanoes, rivers and lots of beauty to see”. I ask him what he thinks about San Jose to the south. “People are crazy there, they honk and push to move faster, here we are slow and honk to be happy.” I smile.

“Eduardo, I have spent some time in Guanacaste and on the coast and I have heard the same things about happiness there.”

“Yes, I can see there are similarities, but not quite the same. I think we are a little more introverted with our thoughts here and have a lot of religious/spiritual ties to the land. But in both places, problems are few compared to other places.”

Too soon my time near the volcano is over and I headed to Monteverde and the cloud forest reserves. I take a boat ride with a couple of New Yorkers I have befriended and meet a socal college grad on the ride to the other side of the lake. A laid back dude named Robert who has been traveling the country for nearly two months. The ride from the lake to Monteverde was filled with gravel, bumpy, steep roads that criss-crossed the country side, dipping through little towns and coffee country.

The town of Monteverde is what I thought La Fortuna would be; not too big, a lot of local art and color, and cheap places to stay. I got a $6 dorm room run by a couple of Texans and hit the streets. As I walked out of town and towards a small art community down the road I felt this to be a more spiritual place than my other travels in Costa Rica. I ate at a great soda in the back of an art co-op that was running on a wood fire kitchen. Just down the road there was a dairy plantation (with great ice cream) and more art studios. I hiked on back roads and saw unique houses that reminded me of the west coast; surrounded by trees and plants, small but with loads of character. When I got back to the hostel I was notified by Judy that things back in Potrero were not going smoothly. Thus I went on an adventure to get an international calling card that no one in town knew how to use, but the five people I asked were all very nice, and eventually the guy working the hostel knew you had to hit 1 before everything else.

After our chat, I ran into Robert whom I met on the boat and we grabbed something to eat. We ended up sitting outside and talking for nearly two hours. As a fellow young traveler we talked about the different parts of Costa Rica, places to stay, and a lot of happiness. First he was skeptical about deeming Costa Rica the happiness country, but after a good exchange we agreed on the relativeness of it all. “How can we really assess happiness?” he asked. “Well, that’s a good question isn’t it?” we both laughed. “But that’s half of book, what can qualify as a substantial measurement to something that varies so much between each person?” I answered. “Exactly man. Just a few days ago I saw some kids riding bikes meant for me and you, I mean they weren’t were trying to sit on seat, they barely fit on the crossbar.” He paused “and if you think about it, if an American kid had a bike that was that big, they wouldn’t even try to ride it, they would complain and get a bike that fit them.”

“You know what’s one underlying thing I have noticed here, the happiest people I have talked to,” I paused “they aren’t striving for anything more than they have, in a sense they are only eating what’s on their plate.”

“Exactly man.”

The next morning I packed up my bag and went for a hike in the Santa Ana cloud forest reserve. A beautiful early morning turned into a rain forest worthy downpour. I had to sneak under a tree to get temporary relief. I thought ‘why did I come all the way here to go on a Washington hike?’ but as I saw centipedes and tropical birds heading for cover my question was answered. Although the rain did not halt, I got a good view of a misty cloud forest from a tower and was surrounded with an aura of mystery in the air.

“But even here, the influence of tourism was unmistakable. The only Tico’s I saw were the construction workers building a new area for reception. The majority of hikers went with a tour guide equipped with a telescope, a shovel and planned stopping points to talk about the flora and fauna. “ I am on the bus heading west with Matt, a native of Austin, Texas who just got accepted into law school while traveling around Central America. “It’s everywhere.” He says “you can tell some people are really getting tired of it, some have even told me.” The owner of the hostel in San Jose mentioned the animosity some hold for tourists here. “I mean think about it” he continues “how would you feel if your town was based on people coming in from another culture and stomping around, changing businesses and restaurants to cater towards them?” Growing up in a small town that would have summer day tourists come, I could relate. “But” I said, “People adapt. It’s in our DNA, just look at the thriving economy that has come to meet it here. I certainly wouldn’t like it but, but I wouldn’t let it control my life, especially in such a beautiful place.”

This thought brought me back to another talk earlier that day. As I walked around the town waiting for the bus, I decided to see another side of town, and found myself in a tourist shop that look very typical to the many I have seen in Costa Rica. Right before I decide to make my way out, the owner, a young Tico with his son, approached me. “Hablas espanol?” he asks. “A veces” (at times) I respond, they get a chuckle out of that. He tells me his name is Alberto and he is trying to learn English online. We talk about the challenges of learning a new language and about his son and their future in Monteverde. When he asks me what I’m doing in Costa Rica, his eyes light up and I ask “estas feliz?”

He tells me he is very happy. Why? “En Monteverde, hay no problemas y vida es tranquila.” (There are no problems in Monteverde and life is relaxed, easy.). Then his friend walks in, Juan. “This guy is researching happiness in Costa Rica” Alberto says. “No way! Hey man, I’m happy, you want to know why?” I like the sound of this. “In this area of Costa Rica, happiness depends on three things” he held out his closed palm, “physical, one, mental, two, spiritual, three”. Nearly an hour later we have touched on religion, spirituality, the self, and of course, happiness. My Spanish got an ego boost in the last couple of hours, although I’m mostly just listening. Juan grew up in a religious, catholic, household like many other TIco’s he tells me. “Then one day, I decided you should decide for yourself if you want to be religious. So I stopped going to church.” He continued “then I really thought about it and saw I needed god in my life, and that we all need god. We all need someone to talk to, during the good and the bad, and every night I talk with him.” In Costa Rica they often refer to Jesus as El or simply, him. So I ask him “how do you know everyone has to know god?” “Well, how do you know yourself then?” He asks “Where do you start? Who do you ask?” “Myself” I say and point at my chest.
“Who?”

“Me”

“Who?”

“Me. How can I know anybody else if I don’t know myself first?” I decided to elaborate a little more, pushing my Spanish. “If I can ask myself the hard questions, I can be happy for simply being alive and taking on problems by myself.”

“Ok then” he says “that’s great”

Happiness really is relative, the more I travel the country the more I can see that. Now I sit poolside in Potrero. Just a couple of days ago there was a crisis here and the house sitters were asked to leave. Trust is important, I see again. The sun has poked its head out the last couple of days and I have fully accepted the relaxed Tico lifestyle; lounging in the pool and ocean, writing and being simply happy. But I can’t stop thinking about the mystery of traveling. It is great to have both; times to wake up with the rest of the day open to any adventure and others to process and reflect. I am fascinated by the contrasts I see in the different parts of a country no bigger than West Virginia. What do the other parts I have not trekked hold? What about the Carribean? Are they happy there, and why? A topic with this much breadth needs to be walked from many shoes, talked by many voices.

Update: San Jose

2011-07-26T19:05:00.000-07:00

Street Mural in downtown San Jose

“Less talk, more action”, bold letters read across a young Tico’s shirt I pass by. Regardless if he knows what it says (It’s in English), the slogan fits San Jose. A hustling and bustling city if I have ever been to one. The downtown area is as crowded as The Big Apple yet as active as a farmers market. People selling, yelling and getting all riled up. Guitarists and street artist call for your attention as you step over piles of burned DVD’s and kids toys.

It’s 9am and I have been on a bus for a little more than 5 hours. The contrast between Guanacaste and this new beast is overwhelming. All my senses are on overload; cab drivers yelling at me, sweet smells mix with city grum and I am surrounded by cement and a wash of bright colors from the tiny shops. No inch of this place is without a business; souvenirs, knick nacks, and bakeries seem to be the most common forms I see. It’s very likely that my first few minutes in Jan Jose were spent with my jaw hanging trying to grasp the jungle I had entered.

The next thing I realized were the street signs, or lack thereof. My hostel was across the city, and although I knew the general direction and had the street it was on, it was to no avail. I saw two or three signs on the sides of buildings but that was it. As I wandered this strange new place, I ran across a fruit market. Just on a side street next to an abandoned railroad station, this was the image I had of a street market in Costa Rica. Block followed by block there were literally hundreds of vendors selling the ordinary array of fruits to those selling things I couldn’t even imagine how to eat. There was a sweet smell in the air swirling the juices, herbs and vegetables that were on either side of me. After asking for directions and finding them less helpful than wandering, I grabbed a taxi and thought, ‘maybe there is more to this high pace city than my initial reaction’. My hostel was not too far from downtown but far enough that I would be able to sleep without horns and airbrakes blasting the windows.

As I got myself settled I got in a conversation with the owner of the hostel; an American who had a weeklong trip planned in Costa Rica that turned into a two year adventure that sees no end. But his view of happiness here is sharp and to the point. “Bullshit” was his immediate response when I mentioned Tico’s being the happiest people on earth. He believed they are too wrapped up in their imagine, animosity towards Americans, and falling government. I couldn’t help but think this was more of the atmosphere in the city. This made me realize happiness here does not come in one form, one size or one shape. From this point on I turned my senses to see what differences I could feel, hear and see from my travels.

The next few days I walked over a dozen miles around the city, visiting all types of markets, museum’s and restaurants. I talked with waitresses, clerks and travelers. I observed the behavior of the locals and the businessmen showing their pinstripe suits. I heard the screams of joy from the young Tico’s running after pigeons in the plaza de cultura and smelled the spices in the mercado central. What does this city signify for Costa Rica? It stretches out and holds nearly a third of the country’s population and thus many resources that cannot be found other places. Do you need a cell phone fixed? A part for your bike, or air conditioner? How about a new movie release you want to catch in theaters? San Jose offers these things that many Americans can find within 10 or 15 minutes of driving. Their “mega supermarkets” are no bigger than Albertsons and only a fraction of Costco or Walmart that can be found even in small towns in the US.

This is the place to be if you want to be “somebody”. It was obvious the people here held a different attitude about style and image. I could count the number of people (aside from myself) that wore shorts and a t-shirt and although I did not see any Guicci or Dolce and Cabana, many stores were trying to replicate high style. A more cosmopolitan atmosphere than I was expecting, I stuck out even more by wearing casual clothes.
Furthermore, it seemed people here needed to be somewhere. Not only a location they were traveling to but in the position of power that viewed themselves. I could feel their energy filled with pursuit and desire. Men and women alike walked with an air that sought something more, as if they were reaching to take another step past those around them. But still I could see the older generation holding onto a different work ethic; do what you can, socialize and relax.

So in San Jose I saw a great mixing. In a culture known for a laxed attitude there is a vast number climbing the ladder for success. Image conscious young strut their stuff on the streets and in the clubs as if they were fashionista’s in LA. Still some have not changed, as the older population hangs onto more of a small town vibe. As more and more Tico’s move towards the San Jose area this trend may grow and turn San Jose into even more of a metropolitan.

But happiness must be found here right? Yes, but it has many more sublevels than in Guanacaste. Juan, a Tico about my age told me depending on what you are looking for you can find a social group in San Jose. Be it the businessmen or the hipsters, a way to connect with likeminded have more roots showing here than other parts of the country. Yet the simplicity that the country is known for has been drowned out by the churning of a growing city, in the thralls of an urbanizing country.

Update: Potrero/Guanacaste area

2011-07-26T19:03:00.000-07:00

Just another bike ride in Playa Potrero

I take a step to avoid a string of atv's passing a narrow, dark red clay road, my leg is swallowed in mud. This is the second time on my walk today that i have almost lost my foot in the thick, musculus road that was flooded by heavy thunderstorms during the last few days.

But today is sunny and I have taken the opportunity to walk the beach, think about my time here, and go to

the bank before I leave for the capitol of San Jose in the morning. Playa Potrero too, has been hit hard by the recent storms, making the walk along the beach almost impossible with the sea of newly acquired beach wood, assorted trash, and flooded creeks that now resemble neck high rivers.

Yet this is a slice of paradise. The central, "gold coast" of the pacific is littered with anywhere from white to black picturesque beaches and rugged peninsulas separating the bays like shallow spaces between fingertips.

In this area of Guanacaste, prices and advertisements are point directly towards wealthy (relative to the locals) travelers looking for an escape from their current lives.

But this is not that season, and many businesses are empty, with a few Tico's sitting at the bar or taking a stroll to the bus stop or local market. The people that I have met, and the things that I have seen so far have been great context to the readings and thoughts I have had for this place.

"Tranquilo" lifestyle spills over into many aspects of life here. At any time of the day you can see a family at the beach, men taking a break in the shade with a local beer or banana, and creatures of many shapes and sizes calling out for something no one really knows. The Tico's I have talked to call themselves lazy with a touch of pride, noting that they have little stress and a good life. Almost everyone holds the view that life in Costa Rica better than their "crazy" northern neighbors of Nicaragua and the disparity that covers much of Panama to the south.

Carlos, my tourismo taxi driver told me he doesn't know if the people here are happiest, but he knows they are happy with what they have. As I took in my first sights of the country I was surprised by the number of shacks, tiny towns/villages and number of people walking around. It was as if the country is their house; they may not have any insulation in their walls but their community provided the warmth they need.

The vibe I'm picking up here so far is not outlandish happiness but satisfaction with the current life, not striving for anything more than what they have and thus happy with what they need.

But Jennifer Dalton, a local real estate agent, tells me that this may not be a current view of the younger population on the rise in Guanacaste. She describes a age group that is seeking materialistic items, shiny things, and alot of money. She pointed out that the age gap of marriages is growing to a uncomfortable gap, with local very young women (many under 21) tying the knot with much older, wealthy men from America and other imported countries.

As I get ready to leave I wonder what the capital and beyond holds in terms of attitude towards life and the happiness the inhabitants posses.

Trust and theft

2011-07-24T16:57:00.000-07:00

Parque Nacional, San Jose

It’s my first day in the capital of Costa Rica, San Jose. A sprawling city that contains 1/3 of the country’s population in its urban palm. After hours of bus rides, street wandering and being utterly lost I make my way to the hostel I’ll be staying at for the next few nights. Soon after dropping of my bags I head to the San Pedro mall to grab some food.

This mall is almost too much. Four stories with a shape of a tic tac toe board, I can barely hear myself think with everything going on. There is a live concert in the main lobby and every store and restaurant has a different song blasting. I can see six different cell phone stores from where I am standing, with a plate of food in my hand and absolutely nowhere to sit in the two stories of tables. I walk and walk and walk, not a single seat open. I am rushed by workers from WENDY’S with certificates and hear cries from the Copa America futbol game playing on all the TV’s. Suddenly, a guy wearing shorts, black boots, a golf shirt and a quicksilver hat approaches me and frantically asks, “Are you American?”

Trust. Without it, humans would be lost. More often than we imagine, we trust our very lives with others. Every time we step into a car, plane or boat. When we cross the street during a red light or when we step into a doctors office. Any of these situations can be greatly affected by our fellow human beings, and by doing these acts we place a great amount of trust into them. Furthermore, relationships crumble without this trait. A child unquestionably trusts their parents while a baby has no choice in the matter. A marriage cannot be strong and stable without the mutual feeling and I certainly wouldn’t fall backwards onto someone I didn’t think trustworthy.

It is in times when this trust is tested that we make great judgments of character. For someone you can trust will always be needed, always called for in times of need.

“Yeah, could you tell?” I laughed as returned my focus onto my food; nothing could drag me from my hunger. “Great, finally! I’m going to stick to you like a fly on sugar” he says. I laugh again “if you can find me a seat I’ll let you hang around”. We turn the corner and a man gets up. “HEY, are you done? Can we sit here?” He blurts out. The poor man obviously doesn’t speak any English and gets up with a weird glance and walks away. This guy has to be American. I dive into my food, my first meal since the night before. He tells me his name is Randy. “Look I got the damn thing tattooed on my arm!” He shows me his right arm, ‘well I guess he won’t forget’ I think.

“Man this place is nuts, I’ve been walking around all day and haven’t got anyone to talk to until you”

“I can imagine, I got so lost trying to find my hostel, San Jose is overwhelming” I respond.

“You won’t believe what happened to me man, I’m still getting a grip on it” I can hear the stress in his voice.

I look up from my sandwich as he wipes the sweat off his brow.
“I got mugged last night, lost everything; my money, passport, everything. The only thing I have left is my plane ticket home, this thing is my holy grail!”

He’s got my attention. Walking around lost got me feeling a bit stressed earlier and would hate to be feeling that way for any extended period of time, nonetheless without all my belongings and not knowing any Spanish. “The worst part is I can’t get into the embassy or anything until I get my passport and paperwork on Monday”, it’s Friday night.

I can see where this conversation is going; this guy needs my help, and probably some money. So I divert the conversation to find out more my fellow American. He has a Italian-American accent, and as he tells me he is a butcher in Florida, he shows me the scars across his fingers and hands. We talk about Costa Rica, his recent divorce and my plans to help research an upcoming book about the country and happiness. “Man that’s great, when I was your age I was a working in the meat section at Albertsons.” But look where you are now I tell him. “I got lucky, I tell you. Met a jew and after we got married she gave me the money to start my own shop and restaurant, I paid her back within 5 years. Now I live in Baton Roca, ever heard of it?” No. “Real expensive, I mean if you drive a shitty car in my neighborhood, you get pulled over” He laughs. He tells me he needs some money to last him until Monday. “I already have a hostel picked out and the money will be here on Monday, I just need to hold off until then, can you help me out?”. Possibly, let’s keep talking I tell him. So we talk about the difference between the US and here, his love for fishing and his plans for his trip. “I’m renting out a boat in Playa Flamingo and staying at the Westin, you have to come out and go on the boat with me.” He says. “No way! I’m staying in playa Potrero, not even a mile away” I say excitedly, fishing on the ocean is on my mind. But I keep the conversation going and he tells me more about his divorce and gives me his email, business number and cell phone number. When I glance down at my watch I see it has been over an hour and his story has held up to every word. More than that I see he looks desperate, a feeling I can relate to with my short encounter with helplessness in San Jose.

“Alright, let’s go upstairs to the ATM.” People looking for a spot to sit are staring at us like hyenas on the hunt. “Thank you so much you are really saving me here, you like prime rib? I’ll send you some every Christmas, I swear.” I laugh and tell him prime rib is okay by me. As we walk up the stairs and across the mall to the ATM I notice how he cuts people off without a glance and speaks very loud English, definitely American. I withdraw $150 and we sit at a yogurt stand overlooking the mall. I keep a little for myself and I give him the rest. We talk some more and make sure we have the right info for contact. He thanks me a few more times and heads off, calling my name as he walks down the stairs. I sit a while longer feeling good about helping someone that was in need, never wanting to be in that position without some help.

Well that happened a week ago. Now that my trip is over I look up his info. His address shows up on Google Maps and his phone number works but no one answers. So I look up his name some more, Randy P, look it up on Google if you like. The first link makes my heart stop. His real name is Randy G and he has a violent history of sexual assault, false imprisonment and robbery. He goes by an alias that he told me. I look on another site, I can’t believe what I’m reading, I’ve been hustled. Almost word to word others recall his story of a traveler in Costa Rica that had been mugged and needed a little money. They call him a smooth talker and cite his tattoo on his right arm. Some lost $50, others over $200. I sunk into the couch and anger and deceit filled my mind. How could he do that? He knew I was a student short on money. All the details, the passion, the accent, everything was a part of his show. The best liar I have ever met, this man tricked me and used my good intentions against me.

Trust. Something we all rely on daily. How can we ever trust someone completely? What happens when we are betrayed on this aspect of human relationships? I trusted this man by his word and his stories, as I others have trusted me when I tell them I lost my student ID or my movie ticket. Without trust there is no love, without trust you cannot know yourself. Trust is a big risk, a risk required for joy and a risk that can end in shatters. But as an athlete risk their bodies for their passion, I risk trust in the love of others. If I decide to not trust others, I cannot trust myself. I will not trust every single person, as for all the good souls out and about there are the dark ones too. But that is a risk I am willing to take, to form relationships that require trust and give others the respect that comes with it. Because without real relationships and real trust, how will I ever grow? How will I ever live fully? There are lessons for every action, some require pain, and others do not. This was an experience I will not forget. I could never look someone in the eyes and lie to them for an hour and take their money. But not everyone knows themselves, not everyone believes in trust.

Race with no end

2011-07-14T16:40:00.000-07:00

Have you watched any television lately? If you did, it can be sure that you saw a message or advertisement expressing the idea of something better. Something that you need and must seek after. Something you must pursue.
I am afraid that this message has carried over and into a literal meaning for happiness. If happiness is pursued, then something is being lost. Once it is objectified, a layer of gloss spreads across the idea in your thoughts. Your idea of happiness is now finite, focused on the goal itself and stripped of its freedom.
I have read over and over again that happiness is not affected after a certain income line. Thus the importance of material items is not the hear all say all. The comforts they bring cannot be denied, but the desires they cause are not always just. Many advertisements carry the message of pursuit, such things as jeans, cars and fame call to us at great lengths. If you only had the 20XX BMW/Porsche/Infinity, you could cruise the coastline and be on top of the world. But once that car/item is obtained, that happiness now relies on you. The pursuit is over and you are now on flat ground. It is up to you were you take that feeling you sought. Is it going to keep moving, or lay dormant, confused on what to do?
Direction. Something we all have found helpful in one way or another, the car is dependent on the directions you give it. So imagine that dream machine, it is struck unless you give it a direction to travel, your input is directly correlated with where it goes.
Yet this is where pursuit is useful. If you know how far you can push yourself, drive and determination are equally as important as direction. The use of your work can have great outcomes if you have meaning throughout the process, letting you create meaning once you have what you were chasing. Giving the bike in the picture the chance of creating equal or more happiness than the cars many of us pursue.

Staring at waves

2011-07-13T22:54:00.000-07:00

If you have been lucking enough to see the shore,
a ocean so vast you can only see a slice,
contemplate what lies beyond,
then you have seen its waves,
constant as a summers wind
they breath in and out,
every day,
every night.

The time we spend here is filled with change,
no day the same,
no moment exactly recreated
like a wave crashing against the shore
we have no choice in face of change,
it is with us whether we sit at the shore
or get carried in its wake

It is easy to find ourselves within the wave
trying to find a way out,
barely getting to the surface before the next crashes upon us
frustration is never far behind,
as life may seem to be built upon these struggles.

But we have a gift,
with great power
the mind can take us out of the chaos.
Let us sit at the shore,
observe
watch the cause of change,
see the causes we have brought,
and those that come with the tide

From here we are no longer in a struggle but in appreciation
with the sand under our feet,
we know how far we can venture in
feel at peace with each wave that comes to our feet,
and see the power we can call our ally.

A New Time

2011-07-11T21:16:00.000-07:00

Solo Yo: my adventure in Costa Rica

Over the past year I have seen my dream grow. I decided I wanted to study happiness this year that the University of Washington. I was told it was unlikely since it is a unstudied topic at the school and many didn't respond to my email. But David Barash took my passion as a good thing and told me he would give me a "fishing license"; for me to do what I wanted without his guidance. I read a lot of books. I also gave a talk on meaning, happiness, and their practical uses at the Undergraduate Research Symposium at my campus earlier this year. It was a great experience and showed me a passion I didn't know I had.
But bigger than that was what WE are undertaking now. His wife, and now my second adviser, Dr. Judith Lipton recently bought a house in Potrero, Costa Rica. It turns out Costa Rica has been recently deemed the happiness country in the world by several websites/survey compilations. This inspired them to attempt a book on the subject of happiness, in Costa Rica, as a paradigm in modern society and beyond.
Now I find myself in their house, occupying the basement with two Ticos (what Costa Ricans refer to themselves as) with 7 weeks at my disposal. I've been here for a few days and been able to enjoy a couple amazing sunsets (see picture above from two nights ago) and a complete rain day as I found myself choosing the wrong time to go for a long walk. Since I am essentially alone, with the language barrier affecting this deeply (I can understand a decent amount of Spanish, but my speaking still are past broken), I have taken this opportunity to write.
I will be talking about my adventures and such as writing is a way of talking to someone as well as getting my thoughts off my sleeve. Any life thoughts and the like will also be finding their way here as usual.
I'm excited to start traveling this weekend when I go to San Jose!

Onward

2011-06-08T12:47:00.000-07:00

Push forward,
keep walking your path,
for the wise know the fate of those who continue,
those who walk in the rain,
stand in the wind,
and stare at the stars
the hard times will come now,
and go then.
it is how we handle the transitions,
that direct our future,
gather wind for our masts,
and shoot for whatever star we may choose.

So don't be scared to fall,
because if you want to be pushed,
you must know the choice to get back up,
take another step and move on,
follow what feels good,
and let the rest go.

Push forward,
Hear your fears,
challenge them so they do not keep you waiting
So you can continue on,
break on through
and see it's only fear,
that kept you looking

Chameleon

2011-05-31T19:34:00.000-07:00

"If everybody is thinking alike, then somebody isn't thinking" -George Patton, Jr

There are a lot of times where we experience change face on. Sometimes we are not expecting it, causing this (insert your problem of the day) to mess with the rest of your day. But, not all the time.. right?
Well that depends
Picture a bowl of pancake mix, but the ratio of water-batter is too just dry, so to keep your breakfast alive you add some water. Now you might have more than you intended for, but everybody likes left-overs.
Think about that problem that came to your head, that unexpected burst that made you switch your train of thought. It may have only been spilling water on your counter-top, but at least for a moment you had to re-asses your environment. It is at this point that we must become a..

And become distinctly clued in with whats around you. This problem can't catch you off guard if you're blended into the background. Don't let yourself stand out before you understand the the whole situation and the role you play in it. Then make the desired thought/action/reaction in a pointed direction, much like sticky tongue of the chameleon. Thus, whatever you catch is a success and whenever you miss it was an opportunity.

Cosmo's

2011-04-25T22:41:00.000-07:00

NASA picture of the day

When I feel knocked around,

I know I will find my balance

To take the next step,

wading further into the ocean,

that makes up the experiences of our lives

The fabric of our wellbeing,

the aggregate of our pain,

and that which, ultimately,

will fall short of making the smallest splash,

in the vast cosmic material we are all bound in

Stretching from the edges of the universe,

to the depths of our souls,

making our consciousness possible,

and our imaginations alive.

So please,

let me not think my importance,

as any more than a tiny part,

in this complex and flowing step,

moving together with all that is star stuff,

in the grace of time,

which widens our rivers and reddens our wines.

Keeping our planet suspended in a mote of dust,

Lost in our own world

Rainy Season

2011-04-05T20:33:00.000-07:00

Here in the emerald city it doesn't rain as much as people think.
But the clouds follow the color of concrete for well of half the year. Gloomy skies cover my head as I walk to class, drive to work, and go for a jog. Drizzling afternoons are the norm starting in late October until (at least) May.
This leaves many Seattle-ites in a mood similar to the forecast, yearning for warm beaches and the sun scorching our faces. Oh how nice it would be to have a sunburn in mid January or enough 'shine to play some frisbee in March.
But today, as I put my hood on and stared at the cobblestone as I went along, I started to smile. I haven't been to alot of places around the world but I've been to enough to miss where I'm from. The green surrounds us in the Northwest and the beauty of the seasons is strong here. As anyone who has spent a summer here know's its a blissful 70-80 most of the time with blue skies and bodies of water.
I started to look at the rain as a watering system for all the life that inhabits the beautiful sound. It's a trial for all those that live here, but when we make it into spring, when the cherry trees blossum, the sunflowers sprout and the sun illuminates the pacific, we understand why we stuck through the winter. A trial to appreciate sunlight, a sunny day and the sun we have missed.
So instead of keeping my head down, I looked up and praised hallelujah. I wouldn't let the drizz put a down on day, because I know its how life works around here, and fighting a frustration we cannot control isn't going to make us happy, now is it? It was a liberating feeling, accepting the rain as a gardner that we get to appreciate all year, that is, if can see it that way.

Get it out!

2011-03-02T12:12:00.000-08:00

Ideas

It starts with a thought and ends in a place you can only imagine.
Visualizing our goals is something that we've been told to do, whether it is on the basketball court or in the classroom. But what about all the other thoughts we have?
Writing is a great example of the power of putting your thoughts out there. Sometimes I write about looking, being thankful or making mistakes. But sometimes I write about the weather, exams or food. What I've found is that getting your thoughts out of your head and into or onto something else is quite gratifying.
Journaling and writing is powerful because it allows the author to express his/her thoughts in a way only they can describe. But more than that, it allows them to see what they were thinking, eliminating much of the stress they may not have even been aware of. I often see it as clearing space in my thoughts, I feel weight come off after I write, I may even call it therapeutic!
By putting what you think out there, you are sending a message to yourself and the universe of what you want and who you are. This can be very empowering since exposing ourselves is not something that is easy or comfortable to do. Yet afterwards, it would be hard to not feel closer to yourself and the goals you want to accomplish.
We may feel like some of these goals are unrealistic or unorthodox, but we'll never know what could come of them if we don't explore where they can take us. Furthermore, you may find your ideas were in the right book but on the wrong page. Seeing yourself narrow in on a goal is the start of an adventure.
Many times, I have thought, then written, then seen those thoughts come alive around me, and at this point, I am filled with peace because I know thoughts contain power, but more importantly, potential.

What do ya mean?

2011-02-22T22:13:00.000-08:00

Cliffs of Dover

At some point, a long time ago, a caveman looked at one of his buddies and asked,
Whats the meaning of life?
Unfortunately, his friend simply hit him on the head with his club and grunted.
Ever since, humans have been asking the same question, and getting just as far.
I have pondered this question before, and I feel it holds great importance in our happiness.
For that reason I want to give a presentation (at the University of Washington undergrad research symposium) on what my readings and my concurring thoughts have shown between meaning and happiness in our lives.
Because it seems, we have been looking for an answer, when we need to be asking the question.
When we believe life has a meaning for us, any attempt that fails to bring this to fruition can make us bitter and leave us feeling unfulfilled or lost. It is not in our DNA, we are not born programmed to be a pilot or actor. Our passion is a fruit of our labor, and in this case, the chicken came before the egg.
But what does this have to do with happiness? And why do you think you know the answer?
First off, I hold no doctrines and preach to no choir that sings of a sublime meaning, for no one can ask the question but you. We are all born with a empty slate, but our genetics and environments quickly place us all in chaos. Out of this chaos, some of develop a purpose for life early on, but many of us struggle with this idea and may never become fully involved in a idea or career. But we all catch glimpses of the magic life can offer. When where we are and what we are doing is all that matters, happiness is simply a part of us, be it playing a sport or reading a book.
But you did not need to be on the moon or in a Ferrari to feel life come alive. It is the power of this simplicity that intrigues me. Some of our situations may overlap, but our perceptions will always be different. Someone who grows up on the cliffs of Dover may not think twice of the beauty when on a daily drive, while other travelers cannot take their eyes off the white slabs pressed against the rocky shores.
What is to say we cannot look at meaning the same way?
If we can have the courage to ask life what we want from it instead of asking for its meaning, our souls have a grip on something, and we cannot help but feel excited. Because it is us who asked, we have created our own meaning, planting a seed for purpose and exposing our passion.
For our meaning is not a question to be asked but an answer we receive in every moment we commit to, no matter how mundane, or even painful, they may be.

Ask?

2011-01-24T14:10:00.000-08:00

Go ahead, ask yourself what you see, what you feel, what you want.
   Even though I see a stack of pizzas on top of a mountain covered by rivers, glaciers, lakes and meadows, with a warn August sunset, surrounded by all my friends, I'm not going to expect that to happen. But if I do imagine a mountain with me on top, I may ask, how do I get there? Do I need to train my body, learn the "ropes" and get the appropriate gear? Is this something I do alone or do I need a buddy, and if so, is there a community or group that could help me along the way? Then I may ask myself the most important question, what is stopping me?
   Not everyone wants to climb a mountain, but everyone has a mountain to climb. How and if we get to the top is greatly dependent on our choices. One the greatest tools I have come upon is asking. By asking what we want and what it would take to get there, empowerment is born. The power that can "remove" yourself from the things stopping you, so even if you don't accomplish your goal, you know you did your best. If nothing else, we are empowered to ask the next question, to take the next step. This is not an easy task, for our loudest critic is often ourselves, but when questioned, even it will give an answer. When we know we have done all we can, that we didn't hold ourselves back, a sense of peace comes over the outcome, and the word failure loses its meaning.
   Stepping back, what I mean "removing" yourself is, in essence, not giving a damn what others think. If I want to learn how to surf, I'm not going to be embarrassed if I don't stand up on my first wave, I'll enjoy the learning process, push myself at my own pace, and stand when the time comes. My first painting won't make it into a museum but I can appreciate and grow from the experience by asking what the process means to me.
   No one is great at everything, but everyone can give it a try. Furthermore, there is always a starting point if we ask, it is the end that is dependent on us. So now I'll ask, what do you have to lose? Embarrassment? Failure? Or how about an opportunity? A passion? A mountain? The only person that misses from not asking is the one who doesn't hear the answer.

The Re-gift

2011-01-24T00:52:00.000-08:00

When it comes down to it, the brain is nature's gift to us, and living a passionate, appreciative and happy life is our gift to nature.

Picture From

The answer

2011-01-05T11:49:00.000-08:00

Poulsbo, WA

The wind hugged the granite walls the day he asked the question.
The response did not startle, scare or settle him. No, on that day, the response became him.
He opened his eyes, and while stooping down to run his fingers through the dewy grass, he took in a deep, crisp breath. The sun had creased the rocky, snow bitten mountains and met him in the eyes. The foothills darted in his vision, small ravines and valleys coating them from the millenia of battling atmosphere and inhabitants. The mist above them radiated against his skin. He could feel the moisture getting sucked up by the shoots of a douglas firs that surrounded him at all times.
A small, maroon bellied bird chirped freely as it curved around him and slid on the face of the cliff several feet in down from him. The bird spread its wings and soared with the freedom he knew lived in every daydream and fantasy, now just soaking up the morning light. As it entered a flock, the clouds had become commanding and drew him in the distance. He was in awe of the condensing air, but why not?
His feet splashed against the creek that ran beside him, the twigs and rocks sprawled around had made several simple dams that couldn't be recreated with the elegance that he saw.
There were many tubes of blue ooze just like this one running up the jutting hunks of tectonic plate. Their trails held more adventure than anyone dared, yet innately were drawn, to take. They popped out of the mountains with power, but never took the grasp from them. He could only imagine them as kings towering over their land.
The vast body of blue caught his glance, planning a dramatic exit. The mist flowed over his fingers, took him skimming over the surface, and put him on the shore. It then swirled up, around, and off the watery mirror, revealing everything he just imagined, in a way not a single word could hang onto. The beauty of life stared back at him wherever the sun uncovered. The edgy mountain he stood on was more taking than he pictured. Especially without him on it.
He saw everything that he admired was much older and wiser than he, looking up to the stars more nights than he and everyone before him. He was no longer important, not king over anything, he was a explorer of something much bigger than himself; the weight of life was melting off of him. This made him feel more important than ever. The serenity of the moment was all he needed to smile.
Lucky enough to live a full life.
To experience the rapid changes and shortfalls.
And to appreciate everything that everything else on the planet could not.

Alive.

Take a Look

2010-12-10T19:32:00.000-08:00

   Do you know what's around the corner from you right now? It's interesting to think that we really can't guarantee anything outside of our vision. We may think a friend is waiting for us inside of the cafe we are standing outside of, but until you open the door and flash a smile to them, you don't actually know.
   For many, this concept is lost when it takes on a bigger perspective.We become so accustomed to everyday life in modern society that the excitement of "ordinary" mystery evaporates. It may be the vice that television, cell phones, computers and the media have put on us, but we don't need to rely outside of our own power to entertain ourselves. Our focus should be on what is around us, what is "ordinary", what makes life.. well life, not on what show you want to watch when you get home, or the keypad on a blackberry. When we become distracted with all the entertainment at our fingertips, we pass on by everything else. Pass by the sun illuminating the branching of a leaf, the smile of a stranger, a conversation with a friend. We pass by what makes this moment special and the opportunities that slip past our unfocused awareness.
   At times my senses feel numb from all the entertainment around me. Just walking through the library I can see music videos, Ipods, movies, advertisements and news updates from around the world. It hasn't been very long since Americans didn't have any of those things, what would they think if they saw all of that? A definite shock to the senses. This numbness leads me to overlook much of the beauty both in man made and natural things. Try this next time you've sat in front of a screen for too long, take a step outside. Doesn't matter if the sun is shining or the moon is sitting high in the sky, just take a breath. Take in the fresh air, close your eyes and appreciate the stillness in mother nature. I like to take the nearest leaf or blade of grass in my hand and feel the essence of what has been here much longer than us. To not judge anything around me, just appreciate it all, and smile. After this, watching anything projected by pixels is simply mundane. Taking our senses back to its literal roots can make the mundane come back to life. The "ordinary" becomes extraordinary. Then, the mystery of what is around the corner is all the entertainment we need.

Going By

2010-12-05T22:13:00.000-08:00

  Kobe Bryant is sprinting over a purple and yellow LAKERS symbol that lays in the foreground of a giant championship trophy. He's worked out 7 days a week since longer than he can remember. He knew that he would have to work hard to keep up in the NBA, now he knows he didn't know how hard that would be. All the time in the weight room, on free through line, watching countless films and shooting in an empty gym didn't happen for him to sit the bench. This is his time, that work is now on display as entertainment for millions of fans.
  Crossing the ball over and into his left hand, he comes off a screen and lowers his shoulder through the next defender, his free hand sliding across the hardwood. His next stride is explosive, taking his momentum past another defender, he doesn't need to look at who's he's going by, he can only see one thing. All his focus is on getting the ball to the basket. He doesn't ponder, he acts, his thoughts are reality; he will continue.
  As he rolls out of a 270 degree turn, he catches a jersey color of a teammate as he launches of his right foot. A defender meets him in the air, determined to get a poster of himself blocking "the black mamba". But Kobe slithers the ball around his waist and draws it past the poster-boy, tossing it through the arms of the final defender and above the rim, into the outreached fingertips of the teammate he never made eye contact with.

  Do you think Kobe was wondering what he was going to eat that night? About the clothes he would wear tomorrow? Or how about what others think of him? I'll say no.
  But why would he? He is in full appreciation of the moment. There was no doubt in his actions, turning them into afterthoughts. The thoughts that may have crossed his mind while sitting first class and listening to his Ipod have no place when he is in the flow of the game. He was in a place where there was only here (actions focused solely in the present), and it was only now (past or future worries and thoughts bear no burden).
  Being in the here and now is not limited to athletic experiences. In fact is can be found in everything, that is the basis for Zen Buddhism (e.g: raking sand, eating rice with complete focus). Although becoming a monk or professional athlete to be in the moment is a little extreme, it is certainly more accessible than most of us think (for those that are even aware of it to begin with!).
  This is a topic I want to pursue in my research, for whenever I am totally focused, "in the zone", or whatever you may call it, it refreshes my soul and fills my sails. Not to mention the inner peace that comes with accepting this moment as the only canvas we can paint on, happiness seems a plausible friend of here and now.

Thanks

2010-11-26T20:06:00.000-08:00

   Maybe it was the several thousand (delicious) calories I consumed with my girlfriends family last weekend and the several more I had this weekend, maybe it was the snow fluttering to the ground outside the windows, or maybe it was the stillness I rarely encounter in Seattle. But earlier this week I found myself sitting in my 4runner just thinking. The car was turned off and I was in my driveway. My dad accused me of talking on my phone, but really I wasn't talking to anyone, just thinking.
   It's been too long since I've done that, and I decided I needed to write. I then saw how much I had to grateful for, I saw what I wanted to write about.
   How many times does a person say thank you in a lifetime? This question may seem like asking how many licks it is to the center of a lollipop, but there is one important difference, meaningfulness. It's easy to find yourself saying thank you like a quick goodbye for the day, a moment that is like any other. But being grateful for something or someone should be more important than that.
   Thanking someone can be immensly satisfying. In fact, it can help both of your moods. Whether it be someone helping you put your snow chains on or a stranger finding your wallet, being over thankful is a rare disease. The heartache or frustration you felt while in need should translate to the gratitude your helper feels. Not only will you make them feel better about helping you, but you will then feel more appreciative for what they have done and what you now have. But once again you must really feel it, don't let them leave without them at least smiling or laughing.
   Speaking of laughing or smiling, gratitude certainly should not be limited to those that have helped you in a single moment or time. In fact, those that deserve the most gratitude may get the least. The good news is that it is never to late to let someone know they are appreciated. Write them a note, make them a card, or just tell them how you feel. You will be surprised how much better you both feel, for gratitude is a timeless gift.

Hitting ground

2010-11-09T15:33:00.000-08:00

Sometimes things don't go our way. Sometimes as good as a day can seem, clouds can always chase us down. When these unexpected times come upon us, we are drawn into a whirlwind of negative thoughts, as if the sun was never there to begin with. It is easy to stay sucked into this gust of feelings, letting the situation stay out of our hands. But there is a way to get back to the ground. Get grounded.

Getting grounded can come in a variety of ways, from a loved ones voice to starting a painting to breathing. Recognizing your distraught and getting centered is a breath of fresh air for your thoughts. Yet this may be the hardest part. Writing has been my biggest tool to seeing this, letting my mental noise leak out through a pen or keyboard leaves room for peace and quiet. Having the ability to fight the whirlwind for enough time to realize your connection to the struggle is your own creation can be daunting. That moment of clarity is the hardest part, once your first foot hits the ground, you know you are stable. You clear out the clouds, settle back into the sunlight and sink farther into your soul.

Seeing the whirlwind blaze forth without you can be a very peaceful and humbling moment, I know it is for me. The power to not seek complete power is instilled, you are now grounded.

Do yo' best!

2010-10-25T18:52:00.000-07:00

What does it mean to fail? Not get the job of your dreams, lose a game or get 50% on a test? Many of us would agree with these statements, but I see it slightly different. The average on my first organic chemistry test was 44/150. Does this mean that the majority of my class failed? I think that depends.

I had faced failure in my short 20.5 years here. As a captain of my football and basketball teams in high school, seeing us lose every game in both sports my senior year could be seen as failure. Doing average on my chemistry test could be taken the same. Or even stumbling on the words that I can hear in my head but don't get out smoothly.

But I don't see any of those as a failure.

Children are often told "just do your best" and "try your hardest", when should that change? College students are under enormous pressure to do well on tests, driving caffeine levels sky high during late nights in the library, to fill in a few bubbles and answer a few questions in order to receive a number (which translates into a grade). This number causes cheating, bribing and broken ambitions every day in pursuit to get it as high as possible. This process is repeated two to four times a quarter or semester in the journey to get a new and final number or letter that causes even more grief.

Getting this high number is not why am in school. I once found myself memorizing solely do well, not to learn, in fact I had no idea what I was putting in my head. This made me question why I was in the class to begin with. Since I have taken it as my primary goal at the university to learn, not get a high number. Doing my best was the best I could do, so why sacrifice my joy and wonder of learning?

Since making that decision my test scores have improved and I feel as if each class I take gives me more and more room to swim in the sea of knowledge we have access to. This also redefined my look on failure. I no longer see it as an outcome but an effort. An effort, that when taken with your concentration and enthusiasm, makes each moment a opportunity for success and no longer a chance for failure.

Why Not Today?

2010-10-22T15:44:00.000-07:00

Why not make today the day?
The day you run your toes through the morning dew,
embrace someone you love,
tell them something sweet.
The day you start the project you keep thinking about
or the one you've been waiting to finish
The day that you won't let yourself get in the way,
and do something meaningful
The day you go to a park, beach, or trail
breath the crisp afternoon air,
open up to the evening rain as it hits your head
To appreciate the nature that can humble every one of us,
see we are part of a much bigger picture
The day to take a deep breath and melt some worries away
To lift your preoccupations and insecurities and walk free

Today is a...

2010-10-12T11:14:00.000-07:00

My skyscraper

    It starts and ends in the same fashion; the movement of your eyelids. Everything in between is an adventure.
It may not seem like it to many of us, but that is because may be looking at it the wrong way.Yes, I know that is easier said than done, and it would be ridiculus to say we should never have bad days, that is part of life. But imagine a construction project. You wouldn't expect a skyscraper to be built in a day, and you also wouldn't expect it to go flawlessly through every second of its construction. But if we can work towards something small everyday, we may see a big reward. The small things we do may not have to be the same interest, just doing things that make us grow as individuals and discover what brings us joy is enough. It is this simple beauty that can make life indisputably adventurous.
   What we build in our lives cannot be done alone. Do you see one worker running the crane, jackhammer, laying floorboards and installing glass? The people around us can have great impact on what and how quickly we can accomplish goals in our life. If you see someone else building a skyscraper that you find interesting, amusing or even atrocious, do not be worried about talking to them, they may hold tools that will carry your project on. The gain of making a friend in this world drastically outweighs the embarrassment of a smiling "hello".
    Keep building, one piece at a time, with direction, passion and as always, an open mind, so no matter what you build, you will have an adventure.

Oops

2010-10-04T14:15:00.000-07:00

   Everybody makes mistakes, it's part of being alive. Yet embarrassment is something that many people avoid at all cost. Holding themselves back because they don't feel comfortable out of their element.We may tell our self that the risk is not worth it or we "know" we cannot do it. Well of coarse you can't do it if you don't believe in yourself! Does a athlete tell their coach they don't want to take the game winning chance because they know they can't do it? Or do they accept the challenge as a opportunity to grow and achieve, throwing caution into the wind? At every chance there is a choice, lets make it fun!
   Making mistakes is a crucial ingredient to success. If we do not know what we can do, how can we know what we are capable of? Every time we do something on a whim, unexpected or new, we give ourselves a chance to expand our bubble of experiences. These experiences tell us about who we are, as if we are uncovering new areas of the blueprint to our souls.
   Embarrassment, does the work make you think of a time where you blushed, tripped, or looked foolish? I sure am, and I'm smiling about it. The times that we are clumsy, untrained, or completely new to something, lies a golden chance.
  In fact, I embarrass myself everyday. Since I was little I have dragged with me a studder in my speech. This is something I have worked on and is much less severe than it used to be. But could you imagine if someone asked you your name and you felt as if you could't say it out loud? Knowing that the person may look at you differently as you struggle to hurdle the syllables in a word you have said thousands of times. I used to be timid in my speech because of this and many thought of me as being quiet and shy, little did they know I was just scared of embarrassment. I have come to accept my impediment, and in turn, I'm not scared to say anything. If I had taken my speaking mistakes as something that I couldn't control or a aspect of my life that would hold me back, then I certainly wouldn't be writing about it today.
    Sometimes we need to get over our head to realize we are not in over our heads.

Trust

2010-09-29T11:59:00.000-07:00

As a bird about to soar,
you have to know you can fly before you leave the ground
Like a train heading up a mountain,
you have to know you can make it before you get to the top
Such as a artist looks at a white space,
you have to know you can make beauty from a empty canvas

The trust we lay in ourself can be a powerful canon to launch us to wherever we like. If we can set that foundation of belief, all that leaves is something to set the spark.
The first door we walk through is opened with our owns hands.

The Gift

2010-09-27T10:10:00.000-07:00

In my farthest dreams and nearest sight, I seek to give a gift to others, for now this is what comes to my mind.

My happiness is life
This happiness is my passion
Passion is my tool
Tools are my gift to others,
writing is the box,
talking is the lid,
imagination is the bow.
When they can open it, they will find a present
The present that is themselves
The present that is happiness
The present that is life

Transition metal

2010-09-21T12:26:00.000-07:00

   Life contains change, in fact it is something we can always rely on, from the falling of the leaves to the hair on our head. Change is in our blood, in the air, change is now. How we cope with and prepare for change can be a defining character for many people and something I always try to be aware of. Change is everywhere.
   Mercury is cool, it is a transition metal. What this means is that it is a sort of metal, sort of nonmetal; it is a element of both traits. Believe it or not, we become mercury at some points in our lives. Everyone has times where change occurs in our most basic aspects of life. Like mercury, we feel neither here nor there, metal nor nonmetal; a transition occurs in our lives. We grow up, grow old and grow out of many things we saw as staples in our lives. We move from house to house, and sometimes from passion to passion. Our jobs will not be the same from when we are 16 to 36, and our parents will not always make us dinner.
   Being in a transition can be daunting to say the least. What we thought we could hold in our hands now slips through our grasp. We may go back to behavior that we were once used to, only to find it is no longer there, yet see the new pieces in our lives are just as unreliable. As creatures of habits, this can be very disheartening for many of us, including myself. During these transition states, be it a lost job or new city, we can take refuge in ourselves. For no matter what change happens, stability can be found in ourselves. If the world was turned into a giant forest and every building destroyed, we would not be destroyed along with them, we could still find a new way to live even in the most extreme wave of change. Fortunately, no change this abrupt will happen in our lifetimes, but the analogy still sticks.
   I found myself in a transition state several days ago while moving into a new house. When I felt anxious or stressed I found a escape through breathing deeply, reading, centering myself. When I could see it was not me that was changing but my habitat, the heat of instability evaporated. The strength of finding inner peace can shine through any tough time, any dark cloud. For as much as things will change, we will always have we.

Raindrops are fallin' on my head

2010-09-10T13:02:00.000-07:00

Imagine a small pond.

It's raining.

Notice the ripples that spread across its surface with ease.

Notice how each drop only covers a small circle, not one ripple covers the whole pond.

It is said the little things that make life worth living, something I have come to adopt whole heartedly. In the rippling pond, one drop of water will not touch both shores, but every splash is connected. A raindrop on one end will touch every other ripple as a bee pollinates a field of flowers.

Imagine a small pond.

It's raining.

You notice all the ripples sliding through each other on the surface.

Now imagine if the pond was a body of actions instead a body of water.

It can be easy to see how two raindrops hit the surface and their ripples overlap each other. For example if you run a red light and get pulled over, the cause of your frustration can easily be seen. But like the ripples on opposite ends of the pond, many actions and their corresponding feelings have roots farther across the surface. Each of our actions has a cause and a consequence, a single ripple may be small, but link them together and the pond is covered. This is one way I find happiness in each day. I don't rely on a special event or moment to make me happy, I make every moment special, each one unique. If we can learn to appreciate each ripple we make, we will see we are swimming in a very happy pond.

Give me some sunshine

2010-09-07T21:35:00.000-07:00

There can a lot to be said about the sun. It can be said its shine gives us the energy needed to run the planet. It can be said it keeps us warm as we rotate in its orbit. It can be said the sun gives us nourishment for the soul.
We plant seeds, water them and let the sun take care of the rest. Its rays come down and bring to life the hope we planted in the earth. We trust that its energy will be there day in and day out, for without the sun, our seeds would never grow.
Just as we trust the sun, trust in ourselves can bring growth and nourishment to our souls. Just as we trust the energy to come down and grow our plants, if we trust ourselves and do what we want, with the highest of loyalties and bravest of leaps, our happiness will blossom.
For if we live in our own sunshine, a trust builds that cannot be broken. The more we become aware of ourselves and act just the way we want, the negativity and doubt that once filled us is now just a whisper of the soul.

Make your appointment

2010-08-25T21:08:00.000-07:00

I once heard a story about a women who was so scared of getting a shot, nurses had to chase her around the room before she would calm down, but after she knew the relief that resulted, she injected herself.
Too many times I discover how easy something can be after spending too long simply avoiding it. People may be scared of a little pain, but if we can realize the long term benefit, the giant needle turns into a tiny prick.
Medicine for the body is a physical procedure, while medicine for the mind or soul is a freeing process. Both involve awareness of the problem and a solution for relief. Like the woman who was scared of the shot, the healthy mind may take a prick before one can understand a problem in their life. But also like the shot, a simple awareness of the problem can yield long term benefits.
Before getting upset for the rest of the day because of a personal problem, reflect for a minute and see if you can understand why you are feeling that way, so the shot you just took, can at least, have a placebo effect.

Take a Step

2010-08-20T09:11:00.000-07:00

The past may loom with heavy clouds
The future may look dark
But find life's brightness in the present
So each step can be illuminated with beauty

Only one more hour of exams before I'm free for a month, hallelujah!

Explore, enjoy

2010-08-16T20:22:00.000-07:00

"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover." -Mark Twain

   What is a explorer? Someone who discovers world changing secrets? Finds earths hidden treasures? Navigates through near-death adventure around every corner?
   My explorer is much simpler. My explorer asks questions, from well known inquiries to ridiculous speculations. My explorer discovers what the heart yearns for. Finds the hidden spots of the imagination and illuminates them. Takes happiness wherever he may go, on yellow brick or through mountain paths. My explorer finds what he wants and does not let himself get in the way.
   Do you know your explorer? Discover him/her. Discover what adventures you seek. Discover what makes your life tick. Catch the winds in your sails.

Travel far, travel near

2010-08-10T19:40:00.000-07:00

Travel for vacation, travel for business, travel for escape. Traveling can be seen as going to a new place in hopes of success, relief or rest. But the idea of travel does not have to be physical. A monk may sit without moving, yet travel farther than any plane can take you. A reader may open a book, turn to a page and enter a world they can only imagine. An author may write their life work from a dream.
Travel is relative, travel is in the eye of the traveler.Going back to The think thought trot (7/27), what you think influences your reality.Traveling through your thoughts can change what you see and how you feel. You can stand in front of a pyramid in Giza and see no purpose in their design and feel no inspiration. But you can also imagine you are in Giza and see a problem in your life as a simple brick in the thousands that make your great pyramid; nothing that could make you crumble. We have the passport to our own world, we use it everyday to shape how we see everything around us, from our daydreams to our reality.
Travel is free, travel is far, travel is near. Instead of searching the globe for happiness, first look at yourself, discover the traveler so then you can understand where you want to go. Traveling can be one of humans greatest gifts. Birds can soar above us, engines may drive propellors, but nothing can take us to the places our minds can.

On our side

2010-08-09T14:06:00.000-07:00

There is more to life than increasing its speed. -Mohandas Gandhi

Time. Many wish for more of it, but why? Are we asking for more chances and opportunities or trying to add hours to our day? The latter will stay at 24 no matter how hard we try, but the first is in our grasp. The river of time only flows in one direction, our struggle against the current is our only control. If we fight to go back or push to go forward, we miss where the river has taken us and thus everything around us.
If we can take a honest look at what surrounds us, without the anxiety of time, the opportunities can be seen on either shore. They are in our daily routines and offbeat thoughts, it's our choice to choose and take our chances, one day at a time. For everything you want cannot be made in a day, but all the tools you need are always with you. So gather some wood, build a raft and enjoy what time can offer, here and now.

Life's like a engine.. better know your parts

2010-08-04T15:02:00.000-07:00

Do you know what a engine does? But do you know how every part moves to work together and create what we use? Just as there is much more to a engine than a few pieces of metal, oil and steady diet of petroleum, life and everything in it contains a wealth of knowledge and complexity we can continuously learn about.
Also like a engine, each part of our lives plays a important role, without it, we just wouldn't work right. But also like a engine, how well do we know these parts? How about our own bodies? How they run; their "oil"(protein enzymes), their "pistons"(muscles) and "spark plug" (brain)? You could spend your whole life just trying to wrap your head around the bodies biological highways.
Now I am not suggesting you dive into what scientists spend their lives studying, rather I am pointing out there is a lot more to our world than what most of us see. Take a minute and appreciate what it takes for us to be here, breathing, thinking, human beings. Appreciate the loved ones who understand you unlike anyone else, appreciate being alive and living life, because if you have that appreciation, you've taken a step in understanding your engine.

The think thought trot

2010-07-27T22:21:00.000-07:00

The mind is part of the body,
This mind contains thought,
Those thoughts create reality,
This reality is a culmination of perceptions
Those perceptions are the story of life

So when thoughts roll through your mind, churn them into a damn good story.

We all got them sometimes

2010-07-22T21:14:00.000-07:00

What a purdy rainbow

Don't worry. Things will get worse."- George Skelton
We all have those days where we see this to be true. Can't wake up, feeling a step behind everything and everyone, nothing quite fits in your puzzle. I know how easy it is fall into that negative mind set. But do you really want a cloud over your head all day?
“The way I see it, if you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with the rain.”- Dolly Parton
Yet it could be easier than you think to not let it get to you. A lot of things happen in our lives that are out of our control. Bad timing means a lot of these in an afternoon, if you can see that most of the bad things in your day were an accident or out of your reach than seeing that rainbow is in your grasp. It wasn't your fault the bus was late or your boss was agitated. Recognizing these simple little things can bring your day back into your command and clear those clouds looming overhead. Just remember feeling like you're having a bad day can only stop you from having a good one!

If you can't beat em..

2010-07-16T00:13:00.000-07:00

Man I love dusting!

Some things in life you have to do, like it or not. Clean the bathroom, wash the dishes and talk to people on the phone that you don't really want to. How we approach these tasks can change their affect on us. For example, in monastery life, apprentices start with the simplest, most mundane tasks (see above). But they are required to do them with complete focus and awareness of every moment; they say work then becomes a place for their meditation. Now I'm not saying you should try and meditate while scrubbing the toilet, but be like a monk and find a way to do simple things with joy.
If your train of thought is, how much do I have left? Why am I doing this? Or I would much rather be doing this or that, time will crawl by, and tasks will seem long and daunting. Much like a child asking if they are there yet, if we focus on how miserable we are, then we are just that miserable! Our mind has a powerful influence on how we feel, think about it next time you are flustered.
I for one used to hate reading. Excluding harry potter and a couple others, I used to start looking to see how many pages were left after 10 minutes. But I started to notice how other people loved reading, and I thought how can we be doing the same activity but looking at it so differently? With time I cracked a book again and decided I was going to try my best to enjoy it. My imagination responded by taking me into whatever world I turned the page to, I haven't closed the book yet.

No soup for you!

2010-07-12T17:02:00.000-07:00

Maybe one day...

Sometimes a no is better than not seeing if there is a yes.

You shouldn't ask a air stewardess if there is bomb on the plane. You definitely don't want to ask a police officer if you can see his gun. But there are alot of times where not asking the question can leave you farther behind than you were before. Life is full of opportunities, unfortunately some are at the end of mazes while others are on silver platters. I often ask myself what would be better, hearing a no or discovering a yes? You would be surprised how much more you may find if you just ask:
"The road is not always on yellow brick but the end can still be where you want to be. Follow what excites you, do what makes you happy, and all you have to do is ask. Ask yourself what you really want and ask how to get it. Then you can start asking outside yourself without worry. Then you will see all you needed to do was ask, then you will see, you are where you wanted to be."

Family matters

2010-07-10T16:24:00.000-07:00

He must have a pretty big family!

I don't care how poor a man is; if he has family, he's rich. ~Dan Wilcox, M*A*S*H

Lets be honest, there are a lot of things we take for granted here in the US. Clean running water, electricity, paved roads and excellent medical care. But what I fear most is the loss of appreciation for family. In the digital age, the things that entertain us can easily distract us from what really matters. And out of all the things that really matter, what can matter more than family? I certainly wouldn't be writing this if it weren't for my parents. Ask yourself what which would be more valuable, facebook, a nice car, or a loving family? Families have been around for thousands of years, what about everything else we call "necessary'? There is a reason that humans have come this far, we have learned to love and care for each other.
Family is not a atm machine, fake smiles or a restaurant only service. Family is all you need when everything else is gone, family is your deepest roots, strongest branches on your growing tree. Instead of surfing the web, ask a loved one how there day was, or make a home cooked meal. It doesn't take much but it can make a big difference.

Ode to America

2010-07-07T17:15:00.000-07:00

As I was enjoying our countries independence day in usual fashion; beer, friends, food and fireworks, I came up with a simple but powerful analogy. Don't let yourself be a firework, be the show. Life is not about building up to a glorious moment; a big promotion, getting rich or getting power, a single explosion of self happiness would be a sad life indeed. Instead let everyday be a firework and your life be the a collaboration of colors, sounds and sights that only you could create. Let a happy moment lead to another so that the simplest of pleasures can bring a smile to your face. And what a better place then in the land of the free and the home of the brave.

I'm Awake!

2010-07-04T15:01:00.000-07:00

Simple can be beautiful

http://www.michaelppowers.com/wisdom/awakening2.html

I've read about this in The Peaceful Warrior and in a Buddhism class I recently took. It is in movies, sports and just about anything you can imagine. Its definition is elastic and viewed differently from experience to experience. But this awakening can have a profound affect on many. I would not be writing this blog if it were not for a similar experience. It had such a profound influence on my life I decided in my future medical career and in life in general, I plan to do everything I can to pass on this experience to my patients and peers.
Life is meant to be lived. You live by creating what you want, pursuing what makes you happy and not letting yourself get in your way. Freeing your inhibition can only help create opportunities for what I saw as a brand new world. Colors became vibrant and simple actions such as a bee pollinating a flower became a bold note in life's orchestra. To see fear and failure as oppurtunity instead of defeat only allows for expansion and improvement. Mental noise becomes clear and life is easier to pour half full then half empty. Simply put life's meaning is no longer a search but an adventure.

A smart man solves a problem, a wise man aviods it.

2010-06-29T20:12:00.000-07:00

You see?

"Our job is not to set things right but to see them right."
-Eric Butterworth

Are you a perfectionist? I am certainly have become one at times. But I've learned that over pursuing something is not perfection but obsession. This is to say I can live in moderation if I simply see things right but I could not if I try and set them right. I can't build a house in a day but I can learn how to design a foundation. Lance can't win the tour de france in a afternoon but he can take the lead. The line between setting and seeing has been a tightrope for many, a fall ending in a injury to confidence and certainty with no way back up for some. But the walk, if successful, can be one of joy and wonder.

I got no empathy for you's

2010-06-28T15:42:00.000-07:00

"I feel you man."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UAG0HkpDnaM

Most people on the planet have heard Bob Marley sing the words "one love", but how many know where he is coming from? Author Jeremy Rifkin certainly does and in this video (with great illustrations) he paints us a message; come together. I enjoyed how he stepped back in our past to show where we are and where we can go. We have come a long ways since our ancestors thousands of years ago, and now well into the electronic era, Rifkin calls for us to use our technology and compassion to create a new age of empathy. "Wide-minded" thinking to unite everyone and re-shape the way we look at the world. Utilizing mirror neurons and the secrets of the human brain are very intriguing, the farther we look the less we know. Yet we know enough to ask some big questions and obtain some big ambitions, but with logic and optimism you can count my empathy in.

I feeeel good

2010-06-27T12:41:00.000-07:00

"If you have the passion, you will win."

A piece of wisdom I heard last night talking about ribs and pizza. Passion is the driving force for creativity and success. Simply put, if you can follow your passion in life, happiness will not be far behind. You can't lose if you love what you're doing; work no longer becomes about what is left to do but rather what you are doing now. Artists like Michelangelo, Picasso, and Rembrandt, scientists like Einstein, Newton and Galileo, and actors like Newman, Nicholas and Eastwood would not be iconic names if they weren't driven by their passion. Are you?

Business vs. Happiness

2010-06-24T15:59:00.000-07:00

A insightful talk about what really counts.
http://www.ted.com/talks/chip_conley_measuring_what_makes_life_worthwhile.html

This speech is chock full of good stuff. Is measuring loss of natural resource and rate of criminal activity a better evaluation of a country than the compassion and happiness of the people the live in it? I certainly hope not. Chip Conley looks for individual, emotional needs over the obvious meal and a paycheck. Allowing intangibles to take precedence over material needs not only lessens the obsession we have with every gadget and gizmo but also gives a appreciate to the simple things we may be overlooking every day.

Alone not lonely

2010-06-23T17:51:00.000-07:00

"In solitude, where we are least alone."

-Lord Bryon

It would be easy to associate solitude with loneliness, as in todays society having entertainment or company at all times has become commonplace. But I see solitude as a human necessity. If we are never alone, how do we know ourselves? Loneliness comes when we seek the company of someone that is not with us, but this should not arise until we have acquainted ourselves with... ourselves first. I learned this growing up as a only child, there can be plenty of entertainment with yourself from time to time, since we are always changing our current thoughts and desires, getting in touch with your current state of mind can bring a surprising feeling of satisfaction and content. I never forget, I am not alone, I have myself.

A wise start

2010-06-22T18:46:00.000-07:00

I thought a suitable first post would be give two short essays by a personal hero of the world.

"The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion that stands at the cradle of true art and true science. Whoever does not know it and can no longer wonder, no longer marvel, is as good as dead, and his eyes are dimmed. It was the experience of mystery -- even if mixed with fear -- that engendered religion. A knowledge of the existence of something we cannot penetrate, our perceptions of the profoundest reason and the most radiant beauty, which only in their most primitive forms are accessible to our minds: it is this knowledge and this emotion that constitute true religiosity. In this sense, and only this sense, I am a deeply religious man... I am satisfied with the mystery of life's eternity and with a knowledge, a sense, of the marvelous structure of existence -- as well as the humble attempt to understand even a tiny portion of the Reason that manifests itself in nature."
"I have never looked upon ease and happiness as ends in themselves -- this critical basis I call the ideal of a pigsty. The ideals that have lighted my way, and time after time have given me new courage to face life cheerfully, have been Kindness, Beauty, and Truth. Without the sense of kinship with men of like mind, without the occupation with the objective world, the eternally unattainable in the field of art and scientific endeavors, life would have seemed empty to me. The trite objects of human efforts -- possessions, outward success, luxury -- have always seemed to me contemptible."

What strikes me most about Einstein is his capability to captivate both the science and social world. His wisdom breached into life's treasures and he was not shy in sharing what he thought. Power through simplicity and peace was his way, a way I wish to adopt as well.