Playa Grande, Costa Rica
Whenever I tell people that I live part time in Costa Rica they say, “What do you do there?” As if just living is not enough. I joke and say, “I watch sunsets.”
Though it’s not really a joke.
In the day to day “American Life” what are we living for? What do we do there? We work. We race. We play and run errands in between. Where is the living? What are we living for? What are we racing for? Why are we in that race?
And what happens if we step out?
What happens if I sacrifice a big income so I can watch more sunsets? What happens if I sacrifice a big fancy kitchen so I can walk through the sand at low tide? What happens if I live in a tiny studio apartment so I can roam freely by foot at my very will? What happens if I sacrifice having a car so I can walk to the store and watch the butterflies and monkeys along the way?
Am I living any less?
Am I living any more?
Is just “living” enough?
Today the rain came in as I walked to the low tide, I took cover in the Las Tortugas Yoga Shala as I had planned to go anyway. I moved. I stretched. I lengthened. I strengthened. Then the rain slowed as the daylight dimmed. I made my way back to the sand. I ran. I cartwheeled. I dug shapes into the sand with my toes.
A strip of orange met above the horizon line peering from behind the heavy rain cloud. The grey floated further revealing puffy clouds of texture and depth towards the horizon. The orange began to glow brighter and as the sun sunk behind the sea, an indigo haze surrounded my gaze until the whole scene was in a frame of purple. The aureate glow in the distance glistened off the low tide sand.
And the longer I waited, the stronger the colors became.
Only the mosquitoes reminded me to make it back before dark.
A photograph with only my eyes for a memory, I stepped my way back home.
LIVE.
photography by: Louis of Hotel Las Tortugas, Playa Grande, Costa Rica
