The greatest gift of all

Last post in my running travelogue of our recent vacation in Costa Rica. Promise. Unless something comes up in my rum-addled mind that merits another blog post. 

You know you've a had great vacation and got the most escape bang for your 'escape buck'' when you find yourself drifting back to that warm humidity, that ionized air and that Pura Vida, long after your Boeing 737 successfully climbs out of the one runway airport in Liberia and soars high above the pristine coast and unimaginably thick jungles.

I'm not sure I've ever experienced a post vacation euphoria such as this one. 

Allow me to expand on this.

After 48 hours in Costa Rica, at the magical Punta Islita resort, and despite losing my favorite sleeping mask, my flip flop breaking, and my phone flatlining after my errant dip in the hotel's signature hilltop Infinity Pool, Ms. Muse and I remarked to each other how relaxed we felt. We had embraced the Pura Vida life -- one that recognizes nothing but the 'here and now.'

Not so surprising since almost every other word from the incredible staff here was "Pura Vida." A genius bit of marketing if you ask me. 

"Let's consciously remind our guests how lucky they are to be in this god-blessed country, even if temporarily, and bestow upon them this unique serenity."

And after 48 hours we were convinced we had gotten there. 

But we were wrong. So wrong. In the best possible way.

Because the truth of the matter is that with each passing day, and fortunately we had 9, we were sinking, willfully sinking, into a trance-like state of mind neither of us had experienced before. 

We were untethered to the outside world. The TV in our room never got turned on. My phone sat idle in a bag of uncooked rice. The phone of Ms. Muse also saw limited action. Mostly because her fakakta  international plan wasn't working. But also because we saw so many people on their not-so-smart phones, couples ignoring each other and parents not engaging with their children, that we actively decided not to spend our vacation that way.

And lo and behold our internal circadian rhythms changed. Sleep issues disappeared. White noise machines were replaced by the crashing of the waves, 1/4 mile down the hill. And perhaps most unexpectedly, we both had longer, more vivid cinematic dreams. 

I'm happy to report that my former boss Lee Clow and the imaginary creative deadlines for a new campaign did not make the trip with us.

I'm convinced Mike White, creator/writer/director of The White Lotus struck gold with his premise because life for people on vacation is a beast all unto itself. 

In short, we loved Costa Rica. And it loved us back with Pura Vida.

PS. If you zoom into the picture above, taken from our regular breakfast table, you will see a brilliantly colored Macaw, nibbling on jungle almonds. It's right in the center. The Macaws travel in pairs and I believe his/her/their partner is off to the left. The sight (sorry no photos) of  Macaws soaring in pairs over rising thermals is worth the trip to Costa Rica. 

That and the singular spirit of Pura Vida.