All three of us were born in Jersey and have lived here all of our 101 years in total. I studied both my undergrad and graduate classes in state and worked/lived here ever since. The 6-½ weeks away was the longest stretch that any of us has ever spent out of state EVER. Jersey runs deep in our blood and it has been motherland, a place of sacred memories.
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Upon landing in Newark there was a surprisingly unfamiliar, unsettling feeling and stillness. As we stepped outside air bathed us with a chill and that New Jersey “je ne sais quoi” quality. We made the drive home with our trusty ex-employee Max. Although we have taken this route with him back from the airport on numerous occasions, this was the first time the conversation was not an immediate return to realism with a briefing of all things PAMA business related. Usually we hit the ground running, being catapulted directly into reality with little time for niceties. On this day there were moments of stillness, chuckles, and small talk.
Once we were on our own in the car Rick and I exchange our feelings and commiserate about our outlooks of feeling like strangers in a strange land. Fittingly, turning on the radio the words blare and resonate, “Help me get my feet back on the ground. Won’t you please, please help me?”
Upon stopping in our familiar grocery store for a coffee and rations it was a surreal feeling like when a spirit passes to another world and is walking amongst this world unrecognized, unacknowledged. The world around us, zooming and flurring as our bodies glide through seamlessly untouched. Leaving the parking lot and SCREECH………. Time speeds up and we are brought to reality when a Jersey driver ran a stop sign, almost ramming us in a T formation as we turned in front of him. OM, OM, and OMG, with a shiver the Jersey Girl in me takes back my body. Giving the appropriate “What the Hey?” question mark arm gesture (no, not a hand gesture I am a lady after all) we were greeted and acknowledged by a horn and reciprocal gesticulation of disapproval, no sign of acknowledging his error. Immediately brought back to our bodies and reality. As a story a teacher of ours once shared it is easy to mediate in stillness and calmness. Now try it while sitting in a half lotus with a sharp, pointed rock under your rump.
What the F, welcome back to Jersey and yes, STOP signs are a mere suggestion.
Paradise in the Keys but… sitting down to our first meal in the Florida Keys with great anticipation of some fresh caught delicacy and there IT was, brought in and casually placed down on the table in front of us. Shocked, I let out an audible gasp and then Rick said “What the?”. As it turns out it was not to be our first sighting in the Keys. Like Boom Boxes and the Scrunchie we thought it had been on the way to becoming an urban myth.
Beautiful Key West
There it was staring us in the face, a Styrofoam™ (styrene) cup with a lid for my three-year old’s water. Really? My heart ached as we saw the repugnant receptacles over and over again, more foam then I have seen in the past 10 years! In restaurants, coffee houses, ice cream shops, and people carrying left overs, the white yeti reared its head. Holistic and green purveyor, I carry the mindset as well as gear with us on our travels. Travel water bottle, reusable shopping bag, reusable travel snack baggies, and of stainless steel travel silverware have come on walkabout and used daily thus sparing countless plastic in the forms of bags, bottles, extra packaging for snacks as well as spoons, forks, and sporks.“Green Enlightened”, once you become enlightened to this waste and damage to the earth or for those who think that is hokey – selfishly think of all the toxins you are ingesting from this one and done lethal crap, plastic included. Ask for our coffee in ceramic cups to stay when you can (it tastes much better anyway) and selflessly, to spare the earth of course, suffer through an ice cream cone instead of a cup. There are some necessary evils in travel, a paper cup now and again for espresso, they decompose, but Styrofoam is an unacceptable instant noxious shock . Did you ever drink a hot drink out of one? Yes, the hot melted plastic tasting caffeine rush is just ungodly venomous.
Coffee House
Collected pieces with beach booty
At the library story hour
Pieces at the park
Restaurant Key Largo
Great Alternative!
This is a horror to me that my child or any child would consume something from this container, let alone the environmental impacts of the remnants of this vile substance. It takes over 500 YEARS to decompose! I could have easily taken a hundred of photos. Hauntingly, not just in the places that used these products but also on beaches, parks, and sidewalks. Most frightening is that I found pieces broken up on beaches and parks. This material is notorious for breaking up into pieces that choke animals and clog their digestive systems. Blanco Tóxico easily blows into the water and then floats! Blessing that there are so many Wildlife Refuges and Rescues but, get to the source.
Florida Keys Wild Bird Center
Florida Keys Eco Discovery Center
Florida Keys Wild Bird Center
What the hell Miami and the Keys? We crisscross the continent and the globe and never, in recent years, seen such an outbreak. Many cities have downright outlawed it, even Taiwan for goodness sakes! White hairs does not need to = white products.
****The EPA and International Agency for Research on Cancer have determined styrene as a possible human carcinogen and the National Bureau of Standards Center for Fire Research found 57 chemical by-products released during the creation of Styrofoam.
We had made it clear to ourselves and our readers that we were searching for adventure and uncertainty but, we had no idea where our trip to the Florida Keys would first lead us and how close we could come to an old foe.
As a child I had the joy of connecting with nature on a fantastic outing to Okefenokee Swamp, one of North America’s most unspoiled, fascinating, and precious natural areas. The website touts it as the largest, intact, un-fragmented, freshwater and black water wilderness swamp in North America. What a beautiful wildlife encounter… that has haunted my nightmares ever since, perpetrating my nights every few months. Who takes a small child who is susceptible to known alligator infested waters? My sadistic family! During that fantastic journey we took a voyage on a tour boat in which we saw gators on either side – eyes sticking out of the water peering at us with devious intentions, on land slithering back into the water retiring to a discrete observation point, and of course taunting on a shore near the visitors center but a small island away. In defense, my mother was petrified adding to my angst but I do believe that my Aunt thought it was immense family fun. Truly a momentous trip not to be forgotten, literally. Please keep in mind that normally these reptiles retreat from adults as they feel threatened but, have been known to attack small children and small dogs. I was 4.
Empathetic to Captain Hook from Peter Pan, looking for his adversary and being haunted by the ever present tick- tock of the Crocodile biding it’s time awaiting another opportunity for an encounter. None the less, together Rick and I have seen and swam near Cayman in jungles of Peru and Mexico and while on a solo jungle adventure in the rainy season of Costa Rica 5 years ago heard a large splash into the river that could have only been a substantial Crocodile sliding into the banks. After spending many adult years putting the trauma of my childhood behind me and convincing myself that my terrors were unrealistic due to the reality that I am a full-grown adult capable of fending off the beast, my adversary has once again made it known to us and our wee one, perfect size for bait.
We decided to stay overnight in Key Largo, meandering our way down the Florida Keys to Key West. The night before the events described below was ominous. As we turned to walk from our hotel beach area at dusk, I snatched our daughter mid-step from trampling on a brightly colored snake making its way through the path. Devout on remaining unruffled and not inflicting emotional scars by our over reaction at a possibly poisonous snake, we casually headed inside reminding her how all animals are our friends and part of nature and the earth. We all live together, we live in right relationship with them and all is well. That is of course as long as you stay out of their path and habitat.
The next morning I mentioned to Rick the only thing I really wanted to do is Canoe at the John Pennekamp State Park, famed for its coral reefs, but also know for its mangroves. Something interesting for all of us to experience, as well as enjoying the outdoors. Touristy trap excursions that are commercial and fixed are not really our thing. We could create our own adventure and that we did. At the registration stand they mentioned that canoes were unavailable because of winds so we would have to take a tandem kayak and the child could sit on a make shift seat in between. Given that we made the mistake of telling a 3-year-old of our intentions in advance we were committed, kayak it was to be. Have you been on a kayak before? Yes, lots of fun for the maneuverability and very close to the water. Have you been on a tandem kayak with a third AKA a squirmy child? Not quite the same throw caution to the wind, freedom. I chose to be the rear seat wanting the extra work out and Rick took the makeshift map and set himself in front. All I remember was the man getting us together and tracing the route with his finger and “there are places where it is a tight squeeze, you’ll need to move branches”.
From the moment we got into the kayak our unity was mislaid, our synchronism was not there. We got moving through the main thoroughfare into the mangroves. An insistent little voice, “mommy I want to paddle”. What harm could that be? I attempted to lift my paddle over her head for fun and the kayak violently shift almost launching us all overboard. An awkward movement, a laugh, and ha-ha we could have all gotten wet. We now have a good little swimmer and all have life vests, no biggie. A few more feet away there was a wooden pier into the mangroves for pedestrians to view into untainted Mother Nature. All occurring in a matter of seconds I said to Rick, “I can see the shore and it is getting too narrow, turn around.” As these words slipped from my lips, I notice a few feet away a hand full of people gathered on the boards staring in the water, and only one woman mentions, barely over a whisper, I am assuming not to frighten the animal, “Oh, you might not want to go near that large crocodile we are looking at.” Might? Might?
Obvious stock photo
I, concerned for the safety of my bait-sized, bite-sized child, centered myself like never before, calling on every power of courage as only a true warrior can. A great Tibetan teacher once said that being fearless is not about the absence of fear but moving beyond it. Rick, to assess the situation or as a natural reaction from the woman’s comments, turns to look at our scaled friend and then so does my daughter. In an effort not to cause the boat to rock, single point of focus and strategically, I calmly tell Rick not to look forward and to plow ahead. Keep in mind that throughout this whole process a plastic kayak, which we are much less familiar with, is not like or by any means as sturdy as a metal canoe. I start to power through the strokes and the kayak rocks from the sudden shift of energy. Deep breath, steady, calm and we glide through the water in unison this time, lockstep – every stride glancing questionably at branches and coral sticking out of the water as we head back to the launch point.
Believe it or not – this is the after shot!
My daughter will not be tortured from the occurrence as I was as a child and now calmly as an adult. Her parents remained centered and cool the entire time just like the Crocodilian. Some might ask, “What did you expect in the Everglades?” Yes, we were in their habitat but, really in this time of litigation, there were no mentions on the state park’s websites about crocs, which used to be an endangered species. Nothing in the paperwork at the registration and hey, no one coached us prior to launch “oh just in case you get in a pickle that flimsy kayak paddle which is not high quality (thank you national parks) will not be of any use because it feels as if it might break from a hard push in the water let alone a jaw clamping it or shoeing away a large reptile”. Yes, the woman who warned us said large. I can still hear her words ringing in my ears along with a faint tick-tock.
Most mornings on our trip to Costa Rica a monkey awakens me. The primate I hear is not the screeching of a howler monkey mind you, willfully I sleep through the sounds of those, the loudest land animals, each dawn. A 3-½ year old curled in my arms wakes me with whispers to set out to go to the beach and romp in the waves at nearly past 6am. We began this schedule each trip to Nosara, 4x now since she was born, and it is a precious time for both of us. There is solitude and unity in those precious few minutes alone when neither individual feels the overwhelming need to communicate in words while winding down the path to the sand.
Howler monkey outside our hotel
Now that she is old enough to comprehend, when we reach the shoreline and gaze into the waves as the sun is rising and share moments of gratitude. I lead the words of the new day with something simple such as “Gracias, gracias, gracias for ……” or “Thank you for all our blessings and our gifts”. The words reverberate in the little spirit next to me who sometimes repeats verbatim but mostly adds her own thoughts as the novel daylight reaches forward. Of all the times we have recited this simple sign of gratefulness to the universe she, amazingly for a child, never adds anything trite and senses the significance in her earnest terms.
We stand with the waves rushing towards our toes and steer to move deeper to get thigh high for my counterpart. Now no longer a novice in the waves, there is an ease that she now places on her approach. Her awareness of the breaks is present but with care and ease and barely a pause in her reactions she assesses each with split second pronouncements. The unfettered mind of a child: Jump the wave? Set and take the wave as it is? Ride it, swimming in? Or if needed reach for a hand to assist.
Ah, the bliss of clarity in gauging the moment as it comes lucidly. Along with it comes a lesson for us all, to perceive in transparency without allowing the measure of our own thoughts and emotions to crash upon us with each swell – Seeing each surge as an opportunity as opposed to a challenge.
Our small token we left in Nosara was a tree we planted with the Harmony Hotel’s “Plant a Tree” program to compensate for the hotel’s carbon emissions during our stay.
**The Harmony Hotel maintains a five-leaf rating from Costa Rica’s prestigious Certificate for Sustainable Tourism (CST).
Our compassion goes out to our friends and family in the Northeast. As I write this they have been hit with two snowstorms since our departure and foresee another ramming this coming weekend. We, fortunately, got out while the getting was good.
Some may be waiting in anticipation of where we disembarked. We copped a squat in our favorite Central American country and town Nosara, Costa Rica. We wanted to choose a place that would reflect complete relaxation and retreat from the rush and hurry energy of which we came, a place that would require minimal exertion on our part to undergo decompression. The comfort of this local provides us with a safe haven and respite due to our familiarity. We have been here 5 times now, 4 years in a row, bringing the wee one here first when she was a mere 6 months. Here we have close friends, make new friends, and meet friends of friends.
Nosara is a surf and yoga mecca, ironically CNN and National Geographic voted it one of the “11 places to go in 2014”. Our hotel the Harmony, is the pinnacle of serenity and nature’s elegance. Time floats and becomes transparent – time evaporates. No really, the hotel has no clocks in the rooms or common areas and there is no Television. No clocks or watches seem to allow the body to naturally reset its rhythms. Wake with the sun to the sounds of the howler moneys and exotic birds collaborating in the distance or maybe a 3-year-old eager to explore the beach. Sleep when the urge comes to slip into a siesta. Lights out literally in the common areas of the hotel at 10 PM and physically when the body draws you to retire synchronizing to the natural, rhythmic body clock.
Now we are boundless, nomads. Several days in and it has yet to completely bore into our consciousness. Comparable to when a lover leaves, the familiarity is so fresh one expects the silhouette to surrey in and settle back into the comfortable nook. Last year on this same trip Rick and I began to discuss the strong possibility of taking this conduit and here we find ourselves with an open pallet to add the strokes deliberately and thoughtfully. The same we that stands here now in the universe of our creation. Since fate agrees, then who are we to disagree?
Honestly, it is not effortless for me to watch as the crayon unabashedly entwines and encircles the page, using the word strays would be a huge understatement. It has been a genuine conscious effort on my part, as a Type A personality, to fight the urge to correct, interject, direct, or even model what society considers a flawless coloring sheet. You know – seamless completion, limited white space, and of course appropriate colors for each space, although in this age pink hair is applicable. My daughter is almost 3 ½ and her pages have looked the same for years now and she loves it and with great fervor and zest she creates her masterpiece. Now, we are not these types of coddling parents that say how you should not hurt the child’s feelings or make them feel un-special. Simply put, we refuse to narrow her possibilities.
This blog will not be taken up to alternatively boast about our daughter’s heighted intellect and other benchmarked accomplishments, all of which quantitatively mean a minuet amount in the long run. The connection between this topic and our current life premise is distinct. One motive of why we have chosen our path is to be an exemplar on living beyond the lines and how, by doing so, our child is learning skills infinitely more valuable than staying inside the black ink creating secondhand art.
Opening her horizons and ours this week we went on another brief jaunt to NYC. Our application is awaiting the creation of the Amazing Race +1, which not only includes a couple but also a child. (Although, by the looks of some families in airports that might be considered child abuse.) Nonetheless, we are golden and ready to collect our $1 Million. Train, taxi, subway, and bus plus riding on mom’s back as we hoof it through the streets all within the first 6 hours. All smiles and belting out her own original songs about New York. Ah, unique art in its purest form – a child’s voice!
Living Wherever We Are 