LA MOSQUITIA

Tttdddddttttttddddd….thack, thack, thack, ttttddddttttdddd ….the hum of the 15 horsepower motor pushes us up the brown, turbid Rio Platano, A light rain descends down pat, pat, pat, patting my t-shirt. Simultaneously the hot, sizzling sun shines heavy on my already blistered lips.. I’m horizontal, stretching out amongst the 2 liter cokes, cookies, containers of gasoline, and whatever else was on the Las Marias shopping list for Ricardo, the owner of this dugout canoe. My head is comfortably nestled into a 50 lb bag of flour and I’m lost in the moment. Not awake, not asleep, a little tingly, that place where your mind and body are a bit disconnected, you think about moving an arm or a leg but they feel heavy. Where when you smile it moves through your whole self and overcomes you and makes you giddy. A pair of parrots fly overhead. I dangle my hand in the water below instinctively to feel the coolness of it. The virgin rainforest surrounds us like a blanket, home to all that is within(this is the 2nd largest carbon sink in the world). In the distance is Pico Dama looming over the village of Las Marias, my destination. I wonder what I will find when I get there???

All men dream but not equally;
Some men dream in the dark recesses of their mind;
And wake to find that it was vanity;
But the dreamers of the day are dangerous men;
For they act out their dreams with open eyes.
(SIR LAWRENCE OF THE FABLED ARABIA)

I remember when I was younger, maybe 18, and my friend Tricia, a friend from kindergarten to the present, said to me …“Vern you are a dreamer you will always be a dreamer.” I recall it as if it was yesterday Her intent was that there was something wrong with it and that it would somehow hinder my potential. From that point on (and I was glowing in my deliberation) I chose to create and follow my own course-not a future expected of me, not a prospect filled with expectations created by and defined by someone or something else, but dreamed of entirely (and there are always more dreams to fulfill) with all intent of possibility. My path.

I started this trip with a goal-redefine who I am, what I want , where I am going, and how to make it all work by leaving my ego behind yet finding a balance in selfless and selfishness (I thank Gretchen for that).. My mother will tell you that I am running away from something (she’s an Okie though and they are a rather apathetic bunch, its the country music); I disagree I am running toward not away.

Some paths we are sent down without are choosing , we call it many things-fate, gods will, “it was meant to be”, and there is pain and joy on these paths but there is always an eventual divergence at the end, and we get to choose again. Luckily when you travel, and when you talk to everyone you meet as I do, your choice at the end of the path starts to become clearer as you are enlightened by the wisdom of others.

Meet Connie. Connie is 80 something and was born in Indonesia. She has been married twice (the second one she wrote to sight unseen), has lived in Holland, America, Indonesia, and now lives in a house with only two walls in Belize. Connie tells a story better than I do (and I can spin a yarn) and still has enough sex appeal in her 80+ year old spirit for me to think, god if this woman was just a little younger…. That spirit mesmerized me. I guarantee you Connie continues to dream with open eyes.