I write this on an airplane, zooming through space, headed back to the rush and bustle of modern living. Conceptually, I know that we are going fast—over 500 miles an hour, most likely—and yet, staring out the window, watching the fluff of clouds beneath and around me, it seems that we are hardly moving. As I reflect on my experience in Costa Rica over the past few months, speed and time feel similarly warped by perception.
Something I am noticing is how much can occur when you strive to do less and be more. I am thinking about a recent trip to Playa Negra, in which the pinnacle of each day, in between yoga and walks on the beach, was sitting on the porch, drinking hot tea in the hot sun, and talking with two fellow journeymen about astrology, the universe and life in general. There was very little “doing” on that trip, but a lot of being definitely occurred. Although we were only there three days, I returned back to Nosara feeling as refreshed as though I had been vacationing for a year.
As the Indian play write Kalidasa exclaimed, “Look to this day!/For it is life, the very life of life./ In its brief course lie all the verities and realities of your existence.” Indeed, it is amazing to me how much life can be packed into a single span from sunrise to sunset, when you are present enough to live it. From my perspective, many lifetimes unfolded on that porch, and each one was long, rich and inspiring.
On the flip side of this, I can think of many days spent at home in the City that seemed to slip between my fingers before I even felt it was there. Somewhere, somehow, between subway rides, yoga classes, lunch dates and ten hours in the throngs of a dinner rush at work, the day rises and falls and the night settles in, and I feel as though I have hardly blinked or taken a few (rushed and shallow) breaths. Many times, I go to bed, exhausted, sensing that I have done a lot but gained or accomplished little. Such is the reality of doing more than being.
Looking back at a year of living at City speed, (over 500 miles an hour, most likely) life becomes a dizzying blur. I have often felt as though I needed to get off the ride before I vomit (or die). I have spent nearly 7 years living at this pulse-quickening rate, and yet, “it seems like only yesterday….”
Conversely, reflecting on ten weeks spent in Costa Rica, I feel like every day was at least a year. Waking to the sound of howler monkeys, giving thanks into the sunrise and the silver morning waves, meditating and doing my asanas, dancing by myself on the beach, I often had the sense that I had accomplished more before noon than I had in my City life in a week—not because anything I did was particularly deep or important, but because I was so fully there, living every moment of it in celebration and awareness, not just doing it but being it. Such is the exhilaration of stillness.
So here I am, on the fast track back to my fast life for a while, refreshed and ready to face “reality” yet again. Despite loving "pura vida," I am looking forward to modern life; to the luxuries of washer/dryers, paved roads and double lattes to-go. However, I’m going to keep my watch set to "Tico time." I may be late, but at least when I arrive, I’ll really be there.
