Pura Vida

I’m standing on a small metal platform that wraps around a large tree in the canopy of a Costa Rican rainforest. The day is clear and bright. The Arenal volcano is looming in the distance. I tell myself I’m sweating because the humidity is sweltering up here.

Okay, I might be sweating just a bit because I’m attached to a zip line, and our guide, Michael, has decided I’m a good candidate to go Superman style on the steepest and longest run of the eleven zip lines. As I wrap my legs around his hips, I tell him I’m going Superwoman style. He laughs and tells me to let go. I lean forward, clinging to the steel-corded cable for one more terrifying heartbeat, and wonder if I might die.

You can’t stay like this forever, I tell myself.

So, I let go . . . and fly.

My arms shoot forward, straight and strong, piercing the thick air. My lungs let out a series of whoops and wheeees. I hear Michael echo my exhilaration. The lush, deep green understory rushes up to meet us as we descend, gaining more speed to ensure we make it across the expanse and up to the next landing.

I am no longer afraid.

I am free.

The video says my flight lasted nineteen seconds. My heart tells me it will last a lifetime.

I’ve just returned from two weeks in Costa Rica, and I’m savoring all my experiences—experiences that exemplify the Costa Rican belief in Pura Vida—the pure life, the good life, a life in tune with nature and oneself.

What better place to explore the pure life than a country tuned for the senses?

Like the taste of coconut candy on a freshly picked banana leaf, a recipe from Cloyd’s grandmother. He is a local guide in Tortuguero, and we are guests in his backyard, a short walk from the Caribbean Sea and the turtle sanctuary. We listen to family tales of cultural change while secretly worrying he may forget he’s cooking for us and burn the concoction in the pot. But he is in tune with all around him, repeating his mantra, Pura Vida. His way of getting our agreement, our attention, and aligning our hearts to his way of life. The sweet confection he spoons onto our leaves is perfection.

Our taste tour continues as we visit a coffee plantation and learn how to “slurp” coffee like a wine sommelier assessing a new vintage. We visit a cacao farm, tasting fresh cacao beans that ultimately become the sweetest cup of hot chocolate I’ve ever had. Pura Vida.

New sounds surround me. A 5 a.m. wake-up call from the howler monkey stationed outside my room has me levitating from my bed as he loudly stakes out his territory for the day. I listen as the calls of the motmot bird echo through the trees. I pause for a moment of silent meditation on a remote canal amidst the mangroves and cicadas. Pura Vida.

I experience the kinetic thrill of white-water rafting, soaked to the bone, laughing with my raft mates as we hurtle through the “dumpster truck” rapids. I take a first tentative step on a hanging suspension bridge so long I can’t see the end and so high I can’t see the bottom. What I can see is a view fit for monkeys and high-flying birds. Pura Vida.

I take in the vibrant colors of nature from green and black dart frogs, scarlet macaws, and roseate spoonbills to mottled leather crocodiles, yellow-throated toucans, and flowers so colorful they stun my eyes. Pura Vida.

I spend an afternoon by a small pool watching white-faced capuchin monkeys frolic in the trees, teasing the bright green iguanas just for fun.

I hold my breath as a mama sloth inches her way across a branch, her baby nestled alongside her.

These experiences remind me that stillness can bring unexpected wonders. Pura Vida.

I’ve returned with a heart so full of beauty and gratitude that it leaks out of my eyes in the form of tears. Happy tears.

I want to hang on to this perspective. How do I honor life around me with more thought and care? How do I live more fully?

For starters, I intend to be fully present with my grandson. The changes in my two-week absence remind me that he will be crawling, walking, and running before I know it. I’ve read this blog to him several times, and his goofy, toothless grin tells me he likes it. I will spend the rest of the afternoon caring for him, for he, too, is Pura Vida.

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For those of you who are interested, this was a tour through Road Scholar. It was the first time my cousin and I used a tour company for our travels, and I would highly recommend them. Our guide, Ivon, was a treasure, and I felt safe, secure, and taken care of for the entire trip.

Photo credits: Mary Kay Wells, Susan Shoff, and Korie Pelka