Gently, Slowly, Softly: How to Travel In Uncertain Times
My Central American Adventure
Hi Friends,
I’m writing to you from Santa Teresa, Costa Rica, where the ocean's roaring like it's auditioning for an epic blockbuster, and the sunsets? Oh, they're throwing a party in shades of gold and electric pink! So here’s the lowdown: we didn’t plan on landing in Santa Teresa. Panama was the original plan until protests over a contentious mining deal shook things up. Check out my essay, "Escape from Panama City," where I recount our wild road trip from Panama City to Playa Venao. I still break out in a sweat rereading the tale. I'm pretty sure I channeled my inner Bruce Willis, "Die Hard" style, through some of those hair-raising moments
We were set on chilling through the protests for 11 days in a laid back beach town. However, with no end in sight and whispers about supply shortages growing louder, we pivoted to Costa Rica. That meant an eight-hour dead of night drive back to Panama City.
Picture this: dodging protest blockades via a maze of detours and nearly turning our SUV into a submarine on a flooded highway. By some miracle, our hotel materialized out of the dark like some apparition in the saturnine hours before dawn. We grabbed a wink of sleep, then jetted off to San Jose, Costa Rica the very next day.
Video footage of the flooded highway in Panama we crossed.
The Realities of Unrest & War
Upon touching down in San Jose, Costa Rica—a welcome sigh of relief—our attention remained fixed on the unfolding drama in Panama. The resonance of democratic voices provided a front-row seat to the determination of the Panamanian people, urging their government to address the contentious mining deal head-on. Quantum First Minerals, a Canadian mining giant, has already poured billions into the contested project.
The Panamanian government finds itself caught in a tug of war between an economic boom and the unyielding anger of the people fighting tooth and nail to safeguard their future. Checkout this informative CBC radio interview on the Early Edition (November 15th) that explores a detailed history of the conflict. It’s a big story with a lot of vested interests.
Meanwhile, my focus is also inexorably drawn to the Israel/Palestine conflict—a nightmarish, complex ordeal requiring a deep grasp of its social, historical, and religious intricacies. Palestinians and Israelis are trapped in a surreal horror show. Palestinians are walking through fire. As I write this, the number of causalities has exceeded 13,000. According to the United Nations, two-thirds are women and children (United Nations).
We, in the West, stand on the sidelines, fearing that what were watching is an ethnic cleansing, desperately praying for a resolution. Day after day, I’m devastated by the convoluted realities of war. I’ve trashed several drafts of an essay trying to put something helpful and truthful down onto the page, feeling the tug-o-war of propaganda at play in the media. Instead, I pause - deferring to educate my mind and heart with truthful voices.
As I jot this down, a temporary halt in operations is in the works, involving Israel, Palestine, and the United States. It’s a glimmer of hope in an otherwise bleak scenario.
Nevertheless, we go about our daily grind. But, in the back of our minds, we can't help but think about those Israeli hostages and Palestinians imprisoned in Gaza and the West Bank. It’s a deeply reflective period, especially when considering the prospect of traveling and engaging with individuals from diverse corners of the globe, each carrying intricate histories unknown to me.
Airbnb’s Luke-Warm “Extenuation Circumstances” Clause
While moving onto the next leg of our adventure, we're hustling to recover the funds we lost canceling our Panama accommodations and flights. I mean, we've burned through hours on the phone and endless emails with airlines and Airbnb like it's an endurance derby.
Luckily, most vendors get it - civil unrest is a legit reason to switch up travel plans. But, there's always one in every crowd, right? Our "one" is an Airbnb in Bocas Del Toro. They're playing hardball, refusing to refund our upcoming stay. Their whole spiel? "Let's wait and see if those protests are still a thing when you're due here." Apparently, their iron-clad cancellation policy trumps Airbnb's "extenuating circumstances" deal, which supposedly covers stuff like civil unrest and military action. Talk about a kick in the teeth!
I won't dive into an Airbnb rant here, but their policies are a letdown. The ongoing protests, although mostly peaceful, come with their share of mishaps. Sadly, there've been four deaths, including two protesters shot by a 77-year-old Panamanian lawyer trying to maneuver through a blockade. I saw the video—the man looked empty, like a shell. It's chilling. That hollow gaze terrified me. We know one photographer lost an eye when he was shot with a rubber bullet. Panama's not in anarchy yet, but navigating roadways and public spaces heightens physical risk.
Traveling amidst unrest is a tightrope walk. It means long hours of night driving to dodge risky daytime road blockades. On the I-go-Panama Facebook forum with 30,000 members, travellers keep asking if it's safe. The unanimous response? "Not at the moment, try later." And then there's this Airbnb saga in Bocas del Toro. They want us to re-detour back to Panama from Costa Rica just to honor our booking. Crazy, right?
Strangers on Airplanes – Tony Soprano
The flight to San Jose, Costa Rica, was surprisingly smooth for someone like me whose been actively working on my flight jitters. Check out my essay "Soaring Above Fear" which chronicles the origins of my aerophobia, and what I did to prepare for my 5 month global trek. In my second essay, "Fear on the Runway," I dive into techniques (including hypnotherapy) for rewiring the fear response. If you have any flight fears or know of someone who does, check out these articles.
But on this flight, no turbulence! And I hit it off with a late 50-something year old, light-skinned, balding Columbian, wearing a tropical shirt unbuttoned at the top and a light-weighted chain necklace. For me, there’s always an initial moment of “stranger danger” dread before sitting next to any new person on airplanes. The irony is I love meeting new people!
My initial wariness with this man was that he seemed to be a curmudgeon, as he sneered at the annoying children shaking the seats from behind us. However, something about this man brought Tony Soprano to mind. Intense eyes, abrupt movements but a warmth reminiscent of James Gandolfini. I helped him pluck out his sim card using a metal piece from my keychain, and bam—instant pals.
His presence invoked an air of familiarity, as if I had encountered him in another lifetime. I like lingering on that feeling that perhaps, in some realm, our paths had crossed before, reminiscent of those tales that speak of souls intertwining across different ages.
As we chatted, I asked him, “Why did you leave Columbia?” There was a pause, a moment where time seemed to hang in the air as he contemplated his response.
Through broken English he said, "I – love -- Columbia. My mother – live –in--- Colombia…I visit her--" a pause punctuating his words.
His next action startled me—he shaped his hand into a gun, mimicking the staccato sound of bullets firing. "Pa, pa, pa…"
We exchanged nervous smiles, and the ensuing silence spoke volumes, an understanding formed without uttering another word.
He flashed his two passports, and I inadvertently glimpsed what seemed like a military stamp. Amid our conversation, he lent a hand with my Spanish and also cautioned us about thieves lurking in Santa Teresa. As our plane made its descent into San Jose, we shook hands graciously and said goodbye. His Tony Soprano nature lingered in my mind long after our brief encounter at 30,000 feet.
A Diesel-Scented, Concrete Paradise
Leaving the San Jose airport, we hit peak-hour traffic in a chaotic, diesel drenched city. Our taxi driver chuckled, saying, “Welcome to Paradise!” dripping with irony. Uber was a no-go; turns out it’s a big no-no. Initially, when we turned down a taxi offer, the driver waved over an airport authority guard, who stalked us with the stink eye until we finally found a cab.
We explored downtown San Jose for a couple of days. I found a chiropractor/massage whiz who tended to my recurring whiplash. Stress from recent chaos might’ve stirred it up. Turns out, a neck vertebra was out of alignment. I expected a gown or blanket but nope! Central American heat makes you care less about being in your undies. Blame the humidity—everyone's a sweaty mess all day! Except for those very occasional glorious AC moments.
My partner stayed for my whole session acting as a translator. The three of us chatted and giggled, sharing stories of travel and a love for dogs, using broken Spanish and google translate - with me half-naked on the table.
Trek to Santa Teresa Through Jungle Fog
The next day, we said goodbye to San Jose and embarked on a wild 6-hour journey to Santa Teresa in a shuttle bus, battling thick fog on a twisting road of hairpin turns snaking through steep, jungle-covered mountains. We met an awesome solo gal from France on the ride—instant bond! We swapped digits, WhatsApp style. Survived the heart-stopping jungle trek and a 90-minute ferry across the peninsula to reach our spot. Said goodbyes to our newfound amiga and dragged our suitcase up a gravel road from the drop-off point.
Night fell like a black curtain. Under a flickering streetlamp, I spotted a possum darting into a bush. Seriously, from a distance, they look like massive rats. But rumor has it, they've got cute faces. I’m on a mission to look one straight in the eyes! We arrived at our new pad, punched in the gate code, and—boom! We were welcomed by a two and a half foot lizard darting into the trees. First impressions of Santa Teresa? Definitely a jungle vibe. But how deep into the jungle are we really diving here?
The next day, in the sunlight, we hoofed it to a grocery store along the main dirt road hugging a few kilometers by the ocean. But let me tell you, this dirt road’s more like a speedway for everything—cars, ATVs, bikes whizzing past inches from pedestrians. And again, ever present, all embracing constant diesel fumes. Inescapable.
Our first day in Santa Teresa? I didn’t expect the omnipresent pressure of people and things to present such a hassle on foot, especially given the onslaught of Blue Zone hype - a rare spot on the earth where people often live over a century. And to top it off, we wrestled with four-hour power outages in 30-degree heat and crazy humidity. Rough start, but better times are definitely ahead.
Migraines and Yoga – A Metaphor
I quickly signed up for yoga sessions to unwind both body and mind at this stunning open-air studio overlooking the town and ocean called Horizon - Santa Teresa Hotel & Yoga Center. Only then did I realize the toll the Panama ordeal took, hitting me like a ton of bricks once we put up our feet in Santa Teresa and I had a moment to breathe.
Suddenly, a migraine struck with vengeance, hammering the entire left side of my head and behind my left eye. It demanded my attention, rendering me useless, slowing my movements and thoughts bringing me to a grinding halt. It was brutal, so intense I feared it might be my new normal. A friend who deals with migraines told me ‘stress’ often triggers these monsters. My body, worn out from sleepless nights driving and amped up from the chaos of nationwide protests, chose this moment of relaxation to go haywire.
Horizon Hotel & Yoga Center, Santa Teresa, Costa Rica
I contemplated diving into a child's pose for the whole class. My body begged for gentle, slow movements. Every attempt to keep up with the instructor sent pain skyrocketing leaving me useless. Maybe I was too ill for yoga then, but sticking with it gave birth to a crucial metaphor: the pain behind my eye was a reminder to take things slow in tough times. Every effort to rush caused a stab of pain.
I slowed down to a mere pulse, moving as if through water, everything muted. I embraced the pain, got inside it, felt its shape and color. I listened. Slow down? Alright, slower. Inhale 1,2,3,4,5,6… hold… exhale 1,2,3,4,5,6,7… time almost froze. I mourned the pain– “how long will you stay? A day, two days? A week? Forever?” I responded: I see you. I hear you. I feel you. I'm listening. Let’s move together.
The migraine lingered that day, and echoed into the following days. I moved slowly, giving it the space it needed.
It made me think of the pain people worldwide endure and how fast we're moving. Pain triggers defense. But maybe what's crucial is full presence and slowing down our responses. None of us truly know the others' burdens— worlds within us containing traumas, disabilities, shame and all the secrets of our psyches.
My ever-present driver, EGO, justifies, lashes out then recoils in self-pity. But in collective healing, the ego's role can shrink. In a room of understanding souls, the ego sticks out like a clueless toddler, and the link between ego and trauma becomes clear. Unresolved neurosis resides in our physical bodies. That unexamined knot will surface as pain, and will dictate our responses.
Equanimity During Dark Times
From my painful migraine, ‘equanimity’ becomes a key in answering a question posed on my Instagram by a friend: how do I love during dark times? Equanimity is a word I recently discovered when pondering if there is a word in the English language to describe “detachment and awareness” at the same time. Naturally, this took me down a digital rabbit hole.
According to this definition from Masterclass:
“Equanimity is the ability to stay emotionally and mentally calm, even in the face of tremendous pressure or turmoil. The definition of equanimity goes beyond mental detachment during a difficult situation. Equanimity means developing an evenness of mind and imperturbability while remaining fully engaged with your circumstances and aware of the present moment.” - Masterclass
I mentioned this newfound term to a family member who is deeply knowledgeable of world religions, and they schooled me on the historical and spiritual roots behind equanimity. Turns out, it's way more profound than I initially thought. They mentioned this ancient word called "apatheia" which is basically equanimity's OG ancestor that has a lineage going way back into history. Today, 'apathy' comes from it, but here's the thing: 'apathy' brings a negative vibe, while 'apatheia' doesn't.
'Apatheia' is like this serene state where you find calmness amid life's chaos. It's about hitting that chill mode, feeling connected with everything around you, and embracing a divine sense of peace. Do not mistake this with spiritual bypassing, which is a term to describe, “A tendency to use spiritual practices to avoid facing emotional issues or psychological pain." (Wikipedia). In Eastern Christian Monasticism, they aimed for 'detached watchfulness.' It’s a state of being aware without getting all tangled up in life's drama—a kind of stepping back from the craziness while staying awake to what's happening.
Why was this 'detached watchfulness' so important?
Well, 'detached watchfulness' are practices that condition us to handle the depth and richness of apatheia (much like a long distance runner must do certain work before subjecting her body to endure a marathon). Apatheia itself may feel like an the top-notch level in spiritual growth— but word on the street is, as we pass by, we discover it is but one milepost and the journey is long.
According to deep spiritual Christian thinkers, ‘apatheia’ is the only gateway or bridge between the lower and higher reaches of our nature. Apatheia is the quick and absolute entrance to the presence of God (Psalm 46:10 - "Be Still and Know I am God"). SO, yeah, that’s where the word equanimity roots from.
And get this, equanimity also has roots in Buddhism, Islam, Judaism, Meditation, Stoicism, and Yoga. Each of these traditions has its take on it, preaching this whole idea of staying chill, yet aware amidst life’s chaos.
According to Masterclass, these are its roots:
Buddhism: The Buddha defined equanimity as one of the four sublime attitudes, along with compassion (karunā), loving-kindness (maitrī), and joy (mudita). Buddhists accept that constant change and suffering are an unavoidable part of life. The steadiness of mind gained through equanimity relieves you of reactivity and ill will in the face of that suffering.
Islam: According to Islam, everything that occurs in the material world is God’s will. Because of this truth, letting go of worry and embracing equanimity should be easy since you can always trust you’re in God’s hands. “Islam” comes from the Arabic word “aslama,” which means the peace that comes from acceptance.
Judaism: Rabbis and Jewish thinkers promote equanimity as a part of their religious teachings. Also known as Menuhat ha-Nefesh or Yishuv ha-Da’at, Judaic leaders consider equanimity a cornerstone of spiritual growth.
Meditation: Mindfulness practice through meditation keeps your attention on the present moment, creating a direct route to equanimity over time. While meditating, you observe your thoughts from a distance, and when your mind wanders, you return to a single point of focus, such as your breath, body, or a mantra. Vipassana meditation, in particular focuses on the impermanence of all things to let go of outcomes.
Stoicism: The philosophy of Stoicism claims equanimity as its central focus. The Stoics believed you should aim to respond instead of blindly react to the uncontrollable events of your life.
Yoga: Many yogic traditions promote equanimity through daily meditation and yoga practice. The Upeksha Yoga school (“upekshā” means “equanimity” in Sanskrit) considers equanimity to be the primary tenet of yoga.
All of these concepts mirror the approach to pain I discovered because of a head splitting migraine—an art of finding a space within oneself for kindness and gentleness amid intense pain.
I know I merely scratched the surface of these concepts. Perhaps I will dive deeper in a later post, but for now, I hope you’re moving gently, slowly, and softly through your days friends.
Sending light and love,
Ashley
Sunset dancing in Santa Teresa, Costa Rica
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