For the last two weeks I have been living in a home soaking with masculine energy. Scott, Yuri, Jason and Baran are some of my most favorite of the male species, but despite this, my femininity has never been so apparent. I long for the perspective and wit of a woman. A mindfulness and a softness. It’s easy to start generalizing differences when they seem so stark. And you know my life story has always filled supporting roles with men, but in recent years I have learned the true beauty and importance of women’s roles in each other’s lives. Despite that, I feel grateful for the opportunity to deepen and solidify my already strong bonds with these guys.
We had a party here the other night. Femke and Maryn brought their guests from Rancho Burica. It so happened that they were all pretty great and we danced until the sun wanted to come up. We climbed up the property and howled at the full moon. We walked twenty minutes down the beach to a calmer place to swim and barrelled ourselves through the waves bathing in the moonlight. Let me just say, when we are out here and there is nothing but trees and insects and birds and beach, and the sun is gone, but the moon is full… the light falls upon absolutely everything with this kind of mystical glow. Something that evokes a feeling of secrecy, like we are walking through and breathing a non reality. There is nothing quite like it.
Everyday is more amazing than the last. This place feels like we are on the edge of the earth. Nothing in sight screaming over saturation or industrialization. Just raw and rugged truth. I have been brought to tears a few times lately, the overwhelming gratitude to be here. I have travelled a bit of the earth before, and this home feels more like a dream than some place on a map. I am captivated by the beauty here. It has worked its way into my blood, and for a girl who has many homes (or none at all, depending how you look at it), this will be my favorite home.
We had a bonfire on the beach the other night. Baran built a massive and beautiful fire with driftwood. It warmed the sand surrounding us and we lay there, with buried feet laughing at each other, staring at the stars, waiting for the moon to climb the sky. I could have spent forever there. It was hard to make a move and climb up the hill to our beds. I have lost all inhibitions when it comes to insects and nighttime and carefulness. It becomes too easy, but we must remain mindful.
Jungle toes, calloused feet, insect bites, and healing cuts. We laugh at our rugged bodies and the acceptance of it all. My hips are black and blue today. Bruised from a day full of surfing. What a humbling sport. Morning surf was soft and sweet, teasing me with a few short rides. The sunset surf was another story. Thrown around like rag dolls. She likes to remind you who’s boss, that ocean.
Baran and Yuri left. A tough goodbye, actually. Its down to three of us. Jason, Scott and I will be surfing lots and enjoying the “downtime” in a quieter home. In a few days Scott and I will dogsit a german shepherd named Ella. We will stay in their home, one with walls and toilets and a television. An interesting change. Afterwards, I will make my way north towards Sheila’s place in Jaco where I will be reunited with Lisa Luciano, a friend I have not seen in over a decade. Surely that will be an emotional and joyful reunion.
Until then, surfing and reading and writing.