There was a time when I believed that the moment I stepped off of an airplane, planted my feet on warmer land, changed out of my parka and rainboots and into a sarong, life would be better. Easier.
Life would be perfect.
The problems of my past, the patterns I longed to leave behind, the pain that I felt, would magically disappear.
As you can imagine I spent many hours on tropical beaches, in quaint European squares, and climbing through rugged jungle terrain
I judged my happiness, frustrated that it had not instantly amplified, instead of relaxing into my environment and allowing myself to enjoy.
The more I travel, the more places I see, and the deeper I plunge into self-acceptance, the more I witness the obvious truth that travel does not, and can not, fix all of my problems.
But travel inspires me.
Travel transforms me.
And best of all travel reminds me that I have a beating pulsing heart.
Travel shows me through the ever-changing, culture-shocking, paradigm-shifting earth, that I have an inner world that lives wherever I choose to shelter it.
That I can participate in any pattern I choose regardless of my surroundings.
That I am as capable of change as the tides.
That my mind, my heart, my body, and my breath, determine my happiness, my anxiety, my contentment, not a weather forecast or an exotic locale.
The more I travel, the more I know, that wherever I go, there I am.
And today, my last day in Costa Rica before departing for Panama, my mind, my heart, my body, and my breath are so grateful to be here, traveling, because while it may not fix all of my problems it has given me the space to find incredible happiness.
I took these photos several years ago while on the island of Oahu.