Perspectives on “Pura Vida”

… an essay on privilege, poverty, and the luxuries of choice

The past 6 months of my life have presented many humbling experiences, and above all have been a time of deepening my connection to Mother Earth like never before. There are many aspects and facets of this journey to describe, and a short article on “home” (and the process of building mine) will be coming out as part of an anthology “Write the Neighbourhood”, published by Pete’s Press, this summer.

For now, I want to talk a little (amongst other things) about the simple luxuries of life, and what they mean to me: as well as what it means to have choice over when we experience the discomforts that many people in poorer communities are faced with daily. 

First, let me give you a brief run through of my journey over the past year or so. At the beginning of last year, I spent nearly 3 months living on my property in Costa Rica without electricity, in nothing but a run-down shack. We set up a mini solar system: with a little panel and car battery, which gave enough power to charge a phone on sunny days. It was going to cost nearly $10k to get proper electrical infrastructure installed, and a lot of time/bureaucracy. After 3 months, it was nearing the end of high season. The rains were arriving once again, we still had no electricity, and dwindling pockets. So I left, went back to London, and explored returning to law. That expedition ended with me giving up my tenancy as a barrister at Wilberforce Chambers for good. I just couldn’t reconcile the “two worlds”: my former life, and the opposing one I was trying to build. Not to mention – how could I possibly be a litigator, with a remote office in the jungle, where none of my clients had any connection to? 

My travels then took me back to Canada, where I spent the summer touring with my husband in a van, playing music and selling my novel at festivals and bookshops along our route. I took on ad hoc freelance work on the side, to help replenish personal reserves; eventually coming back to Costa Rica and jumping between house sits in the low season, enjoying free accommodation and modest allowances.

Along with the help of family, we eventually got electrical connection and started building right away, as soon as this new development made it possible. For the first few months of this year we had a team – then my husband and I took the reins once the main structure of our tiny home was in place: doing our own interior work and landscaping. We currently live between “two homes” – the old shack down the hill, and our new one in the lofty heights of the tree canopy. The interior is not quite finished, but we enjoy sleeping up in the loft bedroom and waking to the golden glow of dawn illuminating the ethereal mist that plays back and forth across the rolling hills in the distance.

Weather permitting, fires at sundown remain a ritual for us: we came to appreciate them with an added depth, after all those nights where a fire had been our only light. But now the tropical rains of the “green season” are here once again, and I miss the routine of warming myself by a fire. You might find it hard to believe that I get cold here in the tropics – but I do. Especially where we are, with our elevation, the temperature begins dropping after the heat of midday, cooling right down in the evenings. It’s a chill which gets exacerbated with the wind and rains, bringing a constant feeling of dampness (if you’re not indoors: cozy and protected). 

It’s currently going on 2 months that we haven’t had hot water. The plumber was supposed to come last week, after many of our own failed attempts to fix things ourselves. But he didn’t show up, and moreover, seemed to drop off the face of the planet not responding to any of my follow-up texts…

This lack of hot water has prompted some reflections lately. To start with, I’ll talk about “pura vida” – the saying “pure life” here in Costa Rica. I’ve written briefly on it before. It’s many things: a greeting, a curse, and a way of life. Foreign tourists use it to describe friendly locals, and a laid-back attitude – envisioning chill afternoons sipping beer on the beach. After living here for a bit, they might say “pura vida” and roll their eyes at instances such as what I described happened with the plumber – getting frustrated and annoyed with it always being “mañana” that a Tico tradesperson will come to fix their problems. 

The other month, my car was parked at the mechanic for weeks – it just needed the replacement of a simple tube, but we didn’t have the full set of mechanic gadgetry we needed for my handy husband to do it for us. I remember when that mechanic ran into him at the store, apologizing for the delay. He had seemed a bit tired and stressed. Clearly, the build-up of cars at his garage was down to the terrible dirt roads in our neighbourhood, wreaking havoc on everyone’s cars daily and bringing an endless supply of broken-down vehicles for him to repair. Not him being slow or incapable at his job.

I remember earlier this year, when my house-build started running massively over-budget and behind schedule at the same time. My team leader was running several projects at the same time, and the delays in mine were causing knock-on effects, clashing with his other commitments. I was trying to keep a zen façade – for him and for my own wellbeing. Yet somewhere within, I could not deny the frustration that was bubbling.

Now, it’s been 3 months that my husband and I have been alone here, wrapping up finishing touches, decorative work, interior design and furbishing, and exterior landscaping. For clarity, our landscaping work is definitely not just for aesthetics but a matter of urgency and necessity: with the onset of the wet season, if watershed is not properly managed, the results can be catastrophic (I’m talking about landslides – which we even had here a couple of years ago, just after buying).

We’ve been at it for more time than it took my building team to put together the entire structure of our home (albeit it is a small one). But still, seriously? I am struck with newfound respect for my team. It’s sinking in how hard they worked and what they accomplished, sinking into my bones that are weary from pickaxing earthen trenches/gutters to divert the water that cascades down from the roof in the heavy wet season storms.

I feel a secret camaraderie now, with the building team that is working on the house next door. We never see/interact with them – the properties are both large and divided by a swathe of jungle. But we always hear them. We think they’re camping there – it certainly seems like it, for they work all hours of daylight, even the weekends. And they’re spending much more time at work than we are – we don’t have the stamina for such long, 12-hour days of manual labour. Yet here we are complaining about no hot water. We frequently hear them calling out to each other in jolly voices, and singing along to tunes they’re playing on the radio. I sure doubt that they have hot water.

I start to appreciate to a new level, the work ethic and “pura vida” of the locals here. They’re often smiling, no matter what struggles they’re facing: that, to me, is true “zen”. If they’re late to fix your problem it’s probably because they’re juggling multiple low-wage jobs to keep up with the ever rising, insanely inflated cost of living here. Rising so much because of the flood of expats, with their online businesses (of course paying no local tax), or trust fund income: who are claiming spiritual enlightenment because of how many ayahuasca ceremonies they’ve done. Sure, enough to lose touch with reality, too many to integrate properly, always rushing on for the next healing journey which may “bring up so many shadows, so much inner work to do…” instead of grounding and anchoring any insights gleaned into the space-time fabric of this present day.

Just to make clear: I have nothing against plant medicine, and it’s healing power. I just think it’s ridiculous how enlightened certain people seem to think and preach that they are, when they have not even had to face the day-to-day struggles so many people in this world must face, without a choice.

Going back to hot water. Lately I’ve been thinking “if I had hot water, I don’t think I could ever appreciate it more than right now, in this moment.” It’s crazy how much we take certain things for granted. I don’t want to ever take this luxury for granted again (although I bet you in weak moments of human-ness I probably will). My muscles are aching from the intensive labour in the heavy red clay soils here, and hauling up erosion-control plants to fill steep banks. The other day I felt some kind of twinge in my groin and the pain progressed down my thigh. Then my teething pup crashed into my calf during one of his crazy moments trying to grab laundry out of my hands. He hit what felt like a nerve: my entire right leg barely wanted to move, and remained that way for days.

Lately, I often feel chilled, as I mentioned – after being caught in another downpour. Not to mention that my spirit’s flame feels subdued, processing various emotions including spending the next few months alone while my husband returns to Canada. I’ll be missing going on tour with him – now, fond memories of last year’s tour resurface, tinged with regret that I didn’t quite make the most of it back then. Does it ever happen to you? That you look back on moments in life, which you could have lived a whole lot fuller? I’ll be honest that it still happens to me, despite making leaps and bounds in my mindfulness practices and living life endlessly more present than I did last decade.

But I also notice: the more challenging life becomes, the more mindful and present I am forced to become. For instance: how to find the joy and comfort within my discomfort. Choosing to find comfort, as opposed to choosing discomfort (which I used to do in my former, wealthier and luxurious life). I once had cold showers for pleasure back in London. I used to “do it for my health”, and indeed in one of my healthy lifestyle mentoring programs, I have a “cold shower” exercise. (If you want to find out more about my services, you can find information here). Absolutely, I still recommend. But I realise now how privileged that choice to create discomfort in pursuit of health, truly is. And what’s healthy in one moment may not necessarily be so, in another. I’m sure many people who live without hot water would find it healthy and nourishing to have a long, steamy shower.

Now, with no option but a cold shower , I am forced to find deeper discipline within myself, and to be creative as to how else I can nurture my body. The other day I made a scrub out of coffee grounds, coconut oil, and lemon geranium from my herb garden. The prices of natural soap here are through the roof. Organic natural toothpaste will set you back nearly $20. I’m finding as many ways as I can to cut costs yet still give myself good quality products. The coffee scrub does something to warm me within, despite the cold water. After my shower, I apply a homemade womb oil to nourish my belly. It was a gift from a girl who studied Mayan medicine with me 2 months ago: she had made it on a previous herbalism course, and was travelling, so wanted to lighten the load.

We also just bought a giant flower pot: it was a fraction of the price of a bathtub, and we’ll use it to start making mini baths for ourselves, boiling water on the stove. I’ve already started stove-heating water to towel-wash my pup in: he sure loves being bathed this way, as opposed to sprayed down with cold water from the hose. It’s much more of a ritual too, and I connect with him deeper – massaging him and soothing his bug bites with the warm, damp cloth. It helps me to stay grounded and present.

I think now I see one of the reasons why so many wealthy, privileged people feel they need to dive so hard into plant medicines for their healing. They need to seek discomfort, because their lives have had too much comfort. They probably cannot face the truth of how comparatively lazy and ungrateful they are – compared to smiling, hard-working, relatively impoverished people. Poor people who simply need to find gratitude and contentment in their everyday life or they wouldn’t be able to physically survive it. Or maybe they’re just juggling too many jobs and responsibilities, and feeding too many mouths, to even have time to contemplate complaining?

If this article is triggering, I’m not sorry. And I’m not saying everyone is like this either. I just think that most of us could use a good wakeup call and slap in the face. I know I did. It took these months of pickaxing in the mud to even begin considering some of these topics on a more personal level – as opposed to thinking of them as mere detached news items. I feel enough added weight with a crazy 5-month-old puppy always begging for more food despite the quality beef I indulge him with: how would I cope with 5 kids under the age of 10, who I could barely offer rice?

Now, for the avoidance of doubt, I’m not saying – don’t go out there and choose to test yourself and create discomfort. Absolutely, of course create the discomforts for yourself. Train hard with physical exercise to develop your muscles and maintain health. Take a cold shower or ice bath and reap the health benefits as well as test your physical and mental discipline. Fast: feel hunger, and mentally surpass the cravings.

But remember that being able to choose these discomforts in the name of health and biohacking is a luxury, and be grateful for it. Don’t get lulled into a false sense of security either: remember that true embodiment of any wisdom gathered from the experience will only be revealed when you are forced to put your discipline to the test in circumstances when you have no choice. 

I see too often amongst the modern spiritual tribe, mere textbook and superficial learnings of wisdom, lacking the accompanying essential embodied integration. And, often I have seen people totally crumble once certain harsh realities hit, when they’ve been confronted by real life. As one of my teachers and shamanic mentors would often say, “the real ceremony begins when the ceremony has ended.” What does it matter what insights you’ve gleaned in meditation, if you’re still playing out the same patterns in your day-to-day life?

My prayer for today is that we all hold a little more humility when it comes to our textbook studies, and have gratitude for the simple things in life that we often take for granted, but which many people do not have.

May we learn to embody whatever we teach a little more deeply, and remember that so long as we have a choice and we are in control, we have not had our integrated embodiment put to the test.

As my Kung Fu teachers might say: you could practice a form over and over, but if you cannot stand your ground in a real fight, what use are your moves? Nothing more than artistic flair, devoid of underlying meaning. And pure aesthetics might be fine, yes. Maybe that’s all some people want: to “appear” to be some Instagram guru, that might be all the ego needs. But that’s not the reality of the heart and spirit, no matter how much someone might give themselves the label of “spiritual teacher”. There’s a lot of them out there, and it’s important to be discerning. The explosion of new age spirituality brings with it many dangers: including diverting attention from the true shamans of the wilderness, and tainting the reputation of powerful healers, obscuring holistic healing behind a fog of mumbo jumbo. That’s a whole other article in itself: for now, I hope I have simply shed a little more light on the culture of “pura vida”, and inspired a sense of gratitude for all the simple things that many of us take for granted.

Finally, if my words have touched you and if you want to show support for a cause close to my heart, here is a Go Fund Me for supporting children in Lake Atitlan, Guatemala: where I spent my last birthday, and met the shopkeeper mentioned in this fundraiser (from whom I bought a beautiful traditional drum).

Thank you for reading, for following my journey and sharing, and I wish you a wonderful weekend – full of presence and appreciation.

With love and gratitude,

Cara