Nov 20: I’ve spent the last few days in a city called Nicoya, not too far from where my previous workaway was, getting some writing done and chilling in my own space. Got a simple little airbnb close by to all the good stuff, run by a very sweet host and neighbored next to a really awesome guy (out here living his dream!) It’s all be pretty low key and easy going, but I did have a fairly special experience today. The host at the previous workaway pointed me in the direction of a half hour hike up a small mountain just a little bit out of the city. At the top was promised a big cross (of the christian variety) and a stellar view.
I had postponed setting off towards it due to rain during the morning, but the dry air I thought I was venturing into turned to rain once again when I started up the trail. It never really got to be much more than a sprinkle, which was actually something of a blessing. Costa Rica is on the cusp of entering into dry season and man, when that sun is out it is hot. I actually got a bit burned today from it. So the rain cooled things down for the hike quite nicely.
Even still, since it was an incline the entire way up I was sweating regardless of the rain. I had set a kind of spiritual intention for this hike, seeing as how the local ticos viewed it as something somewhat sacred and there being that cross at the end, and I felt the rain actually added a nice element to the proceedings. The waters of heaven mixed with the waters of my earth, cleansing me in a sense for what I would find at the top.
I found the level of effort required perfect, keeping me breathing heavy throughout, clearing my interior with life rich air as the rain did something similar for my exterior. I kept a steady pace all the way until I reached the cross. It certainly wasn’t anything fancy in its construction. Quite the opposite in fact, made from rusted metal and missing a few pieces. But in this context that didn’t really matter. It’s what the symbol represents that holds the significance, not the nature of its form.
I meditated next to it for a while, tuning myself into the interpretation of the Christ essence I resonate with. I identify with no religion and take plenty of umbrage with orthodox Christianity. I was actually brought up in a subsystem of christian theology that I could only describe, diplomatically speaking, as dissonant to my own nature. But I have come to deeply appreciate what the Christ image represents, genuinely believing in the energy and essence behind it. I actually felt myself getting somewhat emotional during that little meditation, for reasons meant only for me and whoever or whatever I was tuning into.
As I felt myself coming to the end of the meditation, the sky began to clear and the sun started shining on me. In esoteric thought, Christ (and all messianic figures) correspond to the sun (the sun of God), it being the energy of the divine’s holy emanation, or that which expresses light, warmth and goodness. A fitting and honestly affirming moment. Numerous names and initials has been inscribed into the cross and I figured I would do the same, etching an A and a C.
Having accomplished what I set out for, I began to make my way back down. Now that the rain had stopped and the sun was out, countless butterflies were flitting about all over. So many different colors and shapes. An especially large one swooped right past me, its impressive wings colored a vibrant, shimmering blue. Seeing all these lovely little critters only added to the significance of this experience for me, as I had drawn the star card from my tarot deck two days in a row recently, and butterflies are a part of its symbolism. I was feeling so much lighter and more peaceful as I made my way down that mini mountain.
There was just one more part to this process I felt I needed to fulfill. One of Costa RIca’s oldest churches is in the heart of Nicoya, and I felt compelled to sit in there for a time in order to ground my experience. In my view (again, not being religious and having been negatively affected by religion), there really is something of a hallowed sense in these old churches. I might not subscribe to the exact symbolic arrangements they use or the metaphysical interpretations they follow, but a resonant spiritual energy permeates these places. So many people have expressed their honor and devotion towards God, or spirit or source or whatever, in places like that, and when you really open yourself up to it, can you ever feel it. It’s like a highly charged stillness. I let myself flow with the space for a while, giving thanks and praise and sharing some of what I had received at the cross on the mountain with the church. Once I felt the process was complete, I quietly got up and left.
I have to admit I was hesitant to share this story; mindful of potentially diminishing the experience I had in any way by allowing my ego to exploit it for its own benefit. I find it incredibly distasteful when people boast of their spiritual experiences. But it is part of my journey here in Costa Rica, and a piece of my own story, of which the telling is the entire purpose of this blog. Since I’ll have written this out long before posting it, perhaps I will opt to omit it after all. I suppose you’ll know if you’re reading it now. In any case, I encourage all of you to find similar types of moments in your life, where you allow yourself to tune into and receive the blessing of something greater. Something sublime. The touch of the divine.
ACMindworks 
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