El Día de Acción de Gracias

Thoughts on love and gratitude from Costa Rica. 

Your best laugh is not always your prettiest. 
Candid photo thanks to Logan Sease and the sneakiest of waves.

Today is a different sort of Thanksgiving, for me. When photographer and filmmaker Chris Jordan gave his artist talk at the College of Charleston, he said a number of things that stuck with me. I find myself chewing over them in odd moments, and one of the more impactful was when he rhetorically asked the audience how do we keep going, and keep fighting when the road can be so incredibly hard and bitter and unforgiving (if you've looked at his work or watched the trailer for Albatross, this will make more sense, given the nature of his work). His answer? Love. Fall into a state of love and awe whenever you can, find that balance, remember to see the beautiful as well as the ugly and the excrutiating. 



For this planet so rich and full of wonders. For the sounds of this remote place, all rain splattering against leaves the size of my head, and waves smashing over rocks worn smooth with by the relentlessness of the sea, and the irregular symphony of unknown animals in the night, all reminding me how small and fragile I am. For the colors and textures and sheer size of this vegetation, showing me that beauty exists outside of our pursuit of it. 


In awe.

Of an eco-system so teeming with life both fragile and ferocious. Of animals I didn't know existed, who don't care that I exist. And of a place we have not bent to our will, a place that has not been tamed. 



At rock spiderwebbed with a story as old as time. At crimson fungi brighter than any of my possessions. At the speed and forcefulness of howler monkeys, who inspired a starstruck sense of wonder tinged with that oh-God-I-don't-want-to-die acrid taste of fear. At the strength, exactitude, and tenacity of leaf cutting ants, marching to a beat we cannot hear and fulfilling a mission we'll never know.



For you, reading. For those who have reached out, for telling me you also care, and supporting this experiment I thought no one would notice. For rediscovering people I've known for years, but now in a new way because of this blog. For realizing people all over this planet also care, also love, and also fight for this place we love. 



For remembering nothing is possible or digestible without love. That rediscovering love day in and day out will sustain you through the fight, whatever your personal fight may be. For the lesson that love and loss will always be intertwined, the moment there is one there simultaneously exists the fear of the other. For all the amazing people in my life, who love me despite my crazy, and for this adventure we call life.

Get out there and live it.