The photo below is of the only sunset we saw while in Costa Rica last week ... just one. Most of the week, it rained, sometimes poured, and we had rare glimpses of the sun or blue sky. It wasn't the experience any of us were expecting.
There were challenges from the start. I left Denver a day early due to an unusual November snow storm, that in a couple of days dropped at least a foot of snow at my house. I sat on the tarmack at the Denver airport for two hours waiting. First for the plane to be able to move away from our gate, and second for the plane to be de-iced.
I arrived in Costa Rica in the dark with hard rain. The roads on the way to the hotel were flooded in many areas, making the ride longer than usual. I learned the next day that Hurrican Raphael over Cuba (and then the Gulf of Mexico) interacted with the Pacific Intertropical Convergence Zone causing flooding in Costa Rica. I still managed to get to the beach and pool on Saturday and enjoy some blue sky. When looking at the forecast, Raphael was losing steam and it seemed like it would get better throughout the week. I coordinated with the provider to change our Sunday snorkeling tour to Tuesday with high hopes.
We left the hotel in the rain on Tuesday, but got through most of the boat ride and were able to snorkel in one area before the rain returned. Half of the group went on a tour to Rio Celeste on Wednesday, while the rest of us hung back. I managed to have a nice hike that day and visit to the Beach Club for lunch. By the time we were in the Club's pool, the rain resumed, but we powered through by sitting in the hot tub with our cocktails. Over all, things were still going fairly well.
But then...
By Thursday, Tropical Storm Sara developed from a disturbance over the central Caribbean Sea and headed towards Honduras and then Belize, bringing more flooding and risk of landslides to Costa Rica. Not even halfway through the month, Costa Rica had already received at least 10 times the rain that is typical for November.
During a pause in the rain, several of us enjoyed time in the ocean Friday morning – the calm before the storm. The town started shutting down mid-way through Friday and sending employees home. The hotel was operating with limited staff. We started hearing about problems at the airport due to potholes in the runway. Friday afternoon we spent hours in the lobby – each of us looking at our options since flights out of the Liberia airport on Saturday were cancelled.
Four of us made the decision to get up crazy early the next day and shuttle four and a half hours to the airport near San Jose with the hopes of getting out. Two of us did – in the nick of time. One was delayed a few hours and had to spend the night in Miami due to a missed connection. One was rebooked to depart on Sunday. We were the lucky ones. The others who stayed in Liberia had flights rescheduled to Sunday or Monday. Only one person got out of there before Tuesday, and two people are still there. The airport is closed until Thursday.
So, what's the lesson in all of this? This was the first time in nine and a half years of leading retreats that I've faced such challenges. Sure, I've dealt with rain before in Maui and Monteverde, Costa Rica. I led two international retreats in 2021 when we had to have negative COVID tests to travel. I caught COVID in the month in between those retreats. I've had participants get sick (one with COVID). But never has the full group been impacted for basically the entire retreat. I even had a brief moment of crankiness when I wondered if I even want to keep leading retreats. That surprised me. I did snap out of it.
On Wednesday, I wrote in my journal "Rain, Hurricane, Tropical Storm, what do you have to teach us?" I came up with plenty of ideas: that it's important to slow down; to let go of expectations and appreciate what is; to find contentment in the moment; a bit of boredom is a good thing; that Mother Earth is angry (climate change and our warming oceans are the reason for these frequent and severe storms); that we take for granted our lives of ease and abundance; and, for me, that my love of Costa Rica is not dependent on the sunshine.
Last week was an opportunity for me to sit with the question "what's my reaction when things don't go as planned?" Rather than being mad, frustrated, or glum, I have the choice to be still and quiet for a moment and thank Mother Nature for her gifts. I appreciate the people who were with me in this experience who found ways to laugh and enjoy being on retreat with each other. The weather gave us more time to sit and talk rather than running from one thing to the next.
I was reminded of a passage from a book I read at least 20 years ago, from which I photocopied a chapter. The chapter was "And Miles to Go" by Letty Cottin Pogrebin. She wrote "Travel is the ultimate time extender. In a strange, new country, the world slows down because we are paying attention, trying to figure things out. Exotic locales elicit the same sharpened focus and intense concentration as did all of life when we first encountered it ...Travel may be more expensive than everyday life, but that kind of freedom, that kind of freshness, is priceless."
I've personally had some pretty challenging times when traveling, especially these days when the airlines seem less and less reliable or accomodating when things go awry, but I'll keep traveling, and I'll keep leading retreats, because seeing new places and experiencing new things enhance my life and help me to continue to grow and expand. I hope the rest of the group who were with me in Costa Rica agree.
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