Home For The Holidays

As I sit here on the bus in San José, Costa Rica headed for Manuel Antonio for the holiday, I cannot help but reflect on the difference between traveling alone in Central this Spring and getting around this part of the world today. At 6 AM, my friend Eduardo picked me up at my home in San Juan and we headed for the frontera; thirteen hours of travel by car, two busses and a taxi and I expect to be seated at Las Gemeles on Manuel Antonio beach in time for a late dinner!

“Yo soy Nica ahora.” That means, “I’m Nicaraguan now!”

Well, not quite (yet). But, I feel at home in this part of the world. For two months this Spring I traveled from Nicaragua throughout Costa Rica. I didn’t know a lick of Spanish when I arrived on March 18th, yet within one week, you would have thought I at least had an elementary Spanish education in school. Today, I have officially been living in San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua for 9 weeks. I have spent one-third of 2014 in Central America. I still haven’t taken a Spanish lesson, yet my Spanish gets better everyday (because I care). I can more than get by most anywhere and have full conversations with the people I love.

When I landed in Managua in March, I felt an immediate draw right out of the gate. If you have ever flown into Nicaragua, you know the area surrounding the airport is not particularly desirable. Yet, as soon as my feet touched the land, the energy of the country resonated through me. I am not here to party, though our fiestas are truly epic! I am not here for the surf, though our waves rival any in the world, and our lineup is a candy store of the most beautiful men I have ever laid eyes on. I am here because I love the culture, the people and the land. I am here because I wished for it and the Universe made it so.

A self-proclaimed orphan, I am overwhelmed with the closeness of the family unit in Central. A closeness extended to friends. Before I arrived here, I never quite felt right where I was. New York didn’t suit me at all and had I not been crippled by fear, I may have left much sooner. People don’t look up to greet one another when they walk in the streets and NYC life seems to perpetually revolve around a biweekly payday; a churning that never lets up. Never again will I subscribe to ten vacation days and two sick days per year; living for the weekend to drink away the stress of the week indoors at a bar? What a waste! South Florida was better; with room to bike, wake, surf and play on the beach, I reveled in the sunlight, learned to mountain bike and spear fish, fell for a man with rough hands I named Alligator Hands, with whom I contracted odd jobs in construction, used power tools, took my driving test in a pickup truck, cooked on a mega yacht, and first-mated a 78′ Marlow. There is nothing I cannot do and no opportunity I am closed off to.

I’d say I did South Florida right, I stayed off the strip in Miami and settled in beautiful Fort Lauderdale. More than NYC, FTL is the closest I have found to home in the States. Still, something wasn’t right. After two years, Florida didn’t feel like forever. If New Yorkers are consumed with money, South Floridians are consumed with appearances (even the “appearance” of money). I want more for my life than satisfaction over my reflection in the mirror and stockpiles of flammable paper in the bank. A simple life! I like my toys and my boys, and love is my only true wish. Today, many of my closest friends are native Nicaraguan and Costa Rican. When I’m sick, they are the first to call, when I need a ride or a hand or a shoulder, mi nuevos amigos show up unannounced at my door. I feel blessed to be adopted into such a beautiful culture. Now, I will spend Christmas in Costa Rica, where my friends are my family.

I am home for the holidays!

Together in Health! In Love! And in Life!

xob

If It’s Not Okay, It’s Not The End

It is no question I have been stressed of late. It took someone I cherish to remind me: “In the end, it will all be okay. So, if it’s not okay, it’s not the end!” And he’s right!

It’s a good day to have a good day. Because, why not?

Together in Health!
xob

Do What You Want

“Heaven is under our feet as well as over our heads.”
― Henry David Thoreau, Walden

I do not fear death for I have faith. But I will not flee life for I have learned the key to living, and it is so simple it boarders on insulting: DO. WHAT. YOU. WANT.Abandon every notion you have on what you thought you wanted and who you believed you needed to be because it’s crap! Do not live in the shadow your parents, your teachers, your peers painted for you because the very fact that it is shaded makes it dark, and as much as a plant soaks in the sun, we feed on light.

DO WHAT YOU WANT. It’s simple. You KNOW what you want. But we have been so conditioned by society’s shackles we even believe that we do not know what we want. But that’s crap. What you want is to be happy. It’s not money, a Chanel handbag or Louboutins. It’s not a corner office, a Ferrari, a mansion or yearly yacht excursions to St. Barths. Find what makes you happy, truly happy, and you will be free. Perfect it, and you will be rich.

I did this. I know. I live Everyday Better because that is my daily choice.

xob

Entitlement Is The Disease Of Our Nation

There is not a word I dislike more than the term, “deserve.” Most of the time it is someone else saying the word with regards to me when I hear it. The sound is of nails down a chalkboard, I cringe. Most recently, I expressed to friend an opportunity that has presented itself but has yet to be confirmed. I told him, “if the stars align, I may be flying to LA (where he lives) to shoot for [a major fitness magazine].” He told me, “[I] deserve it.” I cringed and told him I cringed.

It is my firm belief that nothing in this world is “deserved.” Rather, we work for what we want, and the harder we work and the smarter we work, the greater our reward. The blessing for which to be grateful here, is not the product of our labor, but rather the ability we have, to change our circumstance; our ability to “earn.”

On Wednesday, I met someone who suffered a traumatic brain injury that severely affected his neoromotor skills; Chris was flying over the speed limit when he flipped his car and hit his head, landing him in a coma for several months. Did he deserve to walk again? Did he deserve to be crippled in the first place? It was he who stepped on the gas, neglected the speed limit and broke the law. But, did he “deserve” his circumstance?

Recently, I lived with someone with a very entitled mentality. Silver spoon fed, he had come from money before losing everything, which was never really his, but his father’s to begin with. Did he deserve wealth again? He felt he did, there’s no question. But he sat on his ass and did nothing to earn it, so it did not come. He became frustrated over what he believed was his misfortune, but never determined. He was starving, but not hungry, and having come from where I have been that was something I never understood.

Entitlement is the disease of our nation. I am blessed never to have known starvation, not because I am lucky, but because I have always been determined to put food on my plate; whatever it takes. But, I know struggle. And much like lifting a heavy weight at the gym, struggle builds strength. I Am Strong.

Together in Health!
xob