Charming Falls Apart

by Angela Terry

  “I can’t get away right now. Otherwise, I’d be all ahhing and ohming next to you.”

  When I watched the promotional video, I tried not to be too judgmental about all the hugs and activities that looked suspiciously like trust exercises and confessionals, because bathing in ancient temples and going to a monkey forest were also on the agenda. And I would be with a group who are all probably women like me trying to find themselves—safety in numbers. The one thing I was judgmental about was the life coach himself, Master Connor.

  As he talked in the video about how meditation will teach you to be in the moment, I couldn’t help but be distracted by his man bun. Is he going for an insouciant look carefully orchestrated by the extra tending to his mane or an “I am Jesus with these locks and you will be my followers” look? I wasn’t quite sure. But once I realized that I’d spent more time focused on Master Connor’s hair than his words, I thought this might not be the retreat for me. Then when I started to look at upcoming flights, I also wasn’t sure that I wanted to spend a couple thousand on airfare.

  That brought me to researching other meditation slash yoga retreats. Costa Rica also had its fair share at a much fairer price, as well as better airfare and a shorter flight. They also seemed less hardcore than Jordan’s suggestion, and more of a morning meditation, then yoga followed by breakfast. Dinner alternated between group outings or on your own. The rest of the day you could opt into arranged tours or sign up for surfing lessons and even circus training. Plus, I could hike in rainforests and still visit monkeys, like I wanted to in Bali. (And the photos of the group meditations showed no man buns in sight.) So I signed up for a six-day package at a resort.

  WHEN I CHECK into the resort, it’s clean and fresh in its simplicity and beauty. I’m given a welcome packet and am told that the first meditation will be in the yoga studio at seven the next morning. After I shower and unpack, I decide to wander the grounds and find the yoga studio. There are gardens and greenery everywhere and the calming sounds of fountains. The yoga studio is outside and is everything I thought it would be with its gauzy white curtains swaying in the light ocean breeze. I had worried that maybe I’d be missing out on some Bali-spiritual experience, but right now I can’t think of a better place to be or better company than myself.

  AT THE SUNRISE meditation class, I watch as others trickle in, mostly women, like I expected. Many seem to have come as a group of friends, and as we chitchat waiting for class to begin, I learn that some of the women are regular retreat-goers and friends of the instructor. Everyone seems energetic, alert, and happy at this hour.

  A woman walks to the front of the room and faces us, “Namaste.”

  “Namaste,” we all say back.

  “My name is Melody,” she says in a soft Australian accent, and I inwardly smile as I can’t wait to tell Jordan, since she got such a kick out of Harmony’s name during our California yoga session. “This morning I’m going to lead you through the first meditation that will then flow into yoga. But first I’d like to go around the room and have everyone introduce themselves, and please let me know if you are new to meditating and/or to yoga.”

  As we go around, I learn that this is a group primarily looking to deepen their practice, and I realize I’m the only true newbie. When Melody asks what made me sign up for the retreat, I say without hesitation, “This spring I lost both my job and my fiancé in the same day. I had to do some serious soul-searching, and I feel like I’m coming to the end of that journey and am ready to start another. Taking a trip by myself, and especially one that my ex-fiancé would never take,” I add sotto voce, earning some laughs, “seemed like a great start to new life adventures.”

  As we sit on our mats with our eyes closed, Melody leads us through our first meditation with the theme of being present and the power of now. I still my mind and focus on each of her words. “You create your circumstances. … There is no more putting off until tomorrow. … You need to live right now. … Stop doing horizon thinking. … During your time here ask yourself how you can take action now. … Don’t procrastinate. … The actions you take now will create your ideal life. … You can create new circumstances by starting now.”

  Between my jet lag and my relaxed being, I feel like I am drifting in and out of a trancelike state. I might really be into meditation or I may have needed more coffee this morning. After spending so much time lately at The Cauldron, I have developed a wicked caffeine habit. And even though I’m supposed to be thinking of the now, I’m already looking forward to returning and telling Eric about my trip, as much as, if not more than, telling Jordan. Maybe that’s telling in itself.

  AFTER BREAKFAST, THE rest of the day is unstructured until dinner. I decide to head down to the pool for some reading and relaxing. The pool area is pretty quiet, and I’m able to enjoy some peace while I let the warmth of the day relax me even more. Though I try to read, I feel my jet lag kick in and I close my eyes and let myself doze.

  I’m woken by some rustling noises. I open my eyes to see what’s going on and there’s a little white-faced monkey next to my lounger looking up at me. How cute!

  I turn to my other side to grab my phone out of my bag to take a picture, but there’s another monkey on that side also staring at me with his hand in my bag. What the! He lets out a howl.

  “Oh my god!” I scream.

  Then there’s a loud rushing behind me and a deep voice booms, “Get off! Off!” and the monkeys quickly disperse. I turn around and there’s a tall, thirty-something, dark-haired guy, waving a roll of paper towels at the departing monkeys.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  “I think so,” I say, though my heart is pounding a million beats a minute. “That was terrifying! Thank you for saving me.”

  “You’re welcome.” He salutes me with the paper towel roll. “The monkeys here can be quite pesky when there’s food in sight. It happens a lot.”

  “But I don’t have any food.”

  He bends down to pick up a jocote that I put in my bag after breakfast. “Is this yours?”

  “Oh! I guess it is.” Wow! Those monkeys are sneaky. “But I definitely don’t want that anymore.”

  He laughs and throws the fruit over his shoulder, away from us and toward the trees. “I’m Alistair.” He holds out his hand.

  “Allison.” I shake his outstretched hand.

  “Allison and Alistair, how great is that.” It’s a corny remark, but I can forgive it since he just saved my life.

  “Yes, that’s easy to remember. Are you staying at the resort?”

  “Yep. Been here a couple days already.”

  “This is my first day. I thought I’d relax by the pool, but that plan’s been shot.” I laugh. “As is trying to visit a national park to see monkeys. That was all the monkey sighting I need.”

  “So, after your terrifying experience, would you be interested in getting some lunch?”

  I was planning on just being by myself today. But he did just rescue my bag from thieving monkeys, and I’m too hopped up from the experience to even try meditating in my room now.

  “That would be great,” I say. “And it’s on me.”

  He chuckles. “Sounds great. Though, you know, this is an all-inclusive resort.”

  I wink at him and then gather up my things.

  I return to my room first to change out of my bathing suit into a sundress, and to generally recombobulate myself.

  I meet Alistair in the hotel restaurant, and he’s changed from his swimsuit into a short-sleeved linen shirt and shorts.

  After we order our meals and drinks, he says, “So, I’m guessing this is your first trip to Costa Rica?”

  “You guessed right. You?”

  He shakes his head. “I’ve visited a few times now. It’s a great place to practice photography.”

  “You’re a photographer?”

  “No. That’s why I need the practice.” He grins and I laugh.

  I tell him how I’m here for the six-day medita
tion retreat. He seems really interested and asks a lot of questions, so I tell him about Melody’s words this morning on the power of now.

  “Ah.” He nods. “Eckhart Tolle. I just read him. It’s good stuff. Huh, I wonder if meditation could help me?”

  I tilt my head in a way to let him know I’m ready to listen.

  He’s quiet for a second and then says, “Ever since my divorce I’ve felt stuck, but I haven’t been doing anything about it.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” I’m also surprised to hear someone my age is divorced, perhaps because at thirty-five I haven’t even managed to make it down the aisle yet.

  He nods. “Thanks. That’s why I came here to regroup. My friends sorta did an intervention on me. I wouldn’t say I was dwelling on the past, though that’s what they think, but it was more that I just didn’t want to move forward.” He shrugs. “Whatever that means. It’s not like I’m ready to get married again, but I also haven’t been dating or figured out how to move on.”

  I’m surprised by how open he is, but then again sometimes the best person to confide in is a stranger, and it also probably helps when you’re both strangers in a strange land together.

  “Yeah,” I say, “I’ve learned recently that I’m not the best with navigating relationships. I was supposed to get married in June, but my fiancé broke up with me.”

  “Ouch! How long were you together?”

  “Five years.”

  “Huh. That’s how long I was with my wife. We married after a year of dating. That sucks about the wedding, but maybe in the long run it’s better to cut it off if it avoids the mess of divorcing. A better now rather than later situation?”

  “That seems to be the general consensus.” I give a small laugh. “Though I kick myself for wasting all that time on something that was never really meant to be.”

  “I hear that.” He leans back against his chair and shakes his head. “Anyway, that’s the past. At the moment, being here, right now, having lunch with a gorgeous woman in a beautiful country, I’m happy.”

  “The power of now,” I joke.

  He grins back. “Exactly.”

  After lunch, he asks me what I’m doing the rest of the day, and I tell him that I’m planning to try out some of the meditation techniques that I learned this morning.

  “Are you sure? Because there’s a lot to see, and if you’re only here six days there’s no time to waste.” He stuffs his hands into his pockets and rocks back and forth on his feet. “I was going to head to Manuel Antonio Park this afternoon with my camera. Any chance you’d like to join me?”

  While I’ve calmed down since the monkey attack and would like to visit some parks, I’m a little leery about setting myself up as Alistair’s plus one on this trip.

  “Thank you, but I’m going to pass today. Maybe later this week?” I offer.

  He bows his head, looking at the ground for a second, and then looks back up at me. “Okay. Thanks for lunch, and I’ll catch up with you later.”

  BACK IN MY room, I turn on the ceiling fan and open the French doors to the little adjoining patio to help circulate some air. While I wait for the room to cool down, I take out my journal and sit out on the patio (after first checking for any lurking monkeys). Before opening my journal, I close my eyes. I can hear the distant sound of the ocean waves, leaves rustling in the trees, birds calling to each other, but even with all these sounds everything feels quiet and still. This is the solitude I’ve been seeking. Not the lonely, isolating, sad existence of hiding out in my condo after getting dumped and fired and being too afraid of running into anyone. Even though I’m technically alone here on this trip, nothing about it is lonely. Instead, I’m choosing this quiet time—it’s both a reflection and celebration of how far I’ve come these last months. When I get home, I’ll be returning on a completely different course from where I thought my life was headed. And I’m finally feeling content with that. And with my eyes closed, I’m also feeling a little sleepy and let myself doze off again before journaling or meditating.

  I RUN INTO Alistair the next day at breakfast. He asks how my retreat is going, and I tell him about Melody’s guided meditation that morning. He tells me about his visit to the park yesterday, and that he’s planning to return to do some snorkeling today.

  “That sounds fun! I was planning to sign up for one of the hotel’s snorkeling tours,” I say. Yesterday was a peaceful day of relaxation and inward thinking, but today, now that I’m well-rested and in a tropical country, I’m ready to do some exploring.

  “You could do that, or you could just join me.”

  I hesitate for a second. But then think, Why not? It was something I already planned to do and it would probably be more peaceful to do it with only one other person than an entire group. So this time when Alistair asks if I’d like to join him, I say yes.

  Since it’s the rainy season, the visibility for snorkeling isn’t great; but I still see schools of fish and enjoy the coral reef and the freeing sensation of being underwater. On the bus ride back to the resort, I look at some of the underwater photos Alistair managed to take and he describes to me the different species of fish that I saw. Overall, he turns out to be an interesting guy—he writes for television, and I learn that his slight accent and name are from his British mother’s side of the family, and that his father is a movie director in Hollywood. He’s full of fun stories and jokingly informs me that his English constitution makes him a good cocktail buddy in the evening.

  The rest of the week after my morning meditation and yoga, I try to cover as much ground and do as much as possible on the island. I explore more of the beaches, take a horseback ride under a waterfall, scream my head off while ziplining, and even ask Alistair to join me for a visit to some national parks with the promise that he’ll protect me from any thieving monkeys (though thankfully we encounter more sloths, which are much more my speed, than monkeys).

  While my moments of meditation have been meaningful and a practice I plan to take home with me, remembering what it feels like to be adventurous Allison again has been priceless.

  WHEN MY RETREAT ended, I decided to see if Alistair was as good a cocktail buddy as he said. So I invited him to join me in town tonight to celebrate the fact that I don’t have to get up early tomorrow morning. Though at first I was worried about him glomming onto me, it didn’t prove to be the case; like me, he was just a fellow solo traveler who enjoyed some company some of the time.

  This afternoon we visited Tenorio National Park and hiked to Rio Celeste, where we saw a lagoon in the most electric blue-turquoise color, and later we watched my last golden sunset of the trip. Now we’re soaking up the warm late July evening and enjoying our final hours in this wonderland. (Between the cloud forest, the rainforest foliage, and the various beaches, when I get home I want to paint my place in all the deep brilliant colors I’ve experienced to remind me of this trip.) My plane ride is tomorrow afternoon, and I want to squeeze every last minute out of this vacation.

  “Are you ready to return to real life?” Alistair asks.

  “Am I ready to leave? No.” I look out at the night sky and then at the smiling faces at the bar. “As for real life, nothing has felt really real the last few months anyway.”

  “So are you ready to return to your surreal life?”

  I laugh. “I’m not sure yet.”

  “You could stay a little longer.”

  “Wouldn’t that be nice?” I laugh again, feeling a little buzzed.

  “It’s an option.” He shrugs. The music changes and he points to the dance floor. “And, hey, whaddaya know? This is my favorite song.”

  “Your favorite song is Dancing Queen?” I try to raise an eyebrow at him, but I’m not quite coordinated enough to manage it.

  He stands up and then bows while extending his hand to me. Despite my blurriness, we’re hitting the dance floor.

  As obnoxiously as two people who don’t care what anyone thinks of them, Alistair and I tear it up. We tr
y to outdo each other in outrageousness, pulling out some old school moves such as the robot, moonwalking, and Vogue-ing skills that I didn’t even realize I possessed. Alistair shouts out, “You’re a superstar!” egging me on to even more ridiculous moves, and I can’t remember the last time I had so much devil-may-care fun. When the music slows down to a cheesy hit popular during my prom years, Alistair pulls me in for some exaggerated slow dancing. We move our arms in a tango-esque fashion and then do some dips and slow twirls as he pulls me in and then away until, exhausted from our exertions, we finally settle into the typical prom style of my arms around his neck and his hands resting on my waist. I rest my head on his shoulder as we sway without talking.

  When the music picks up again, Alistair says, “I don’t know if I can go round two.”

  I can’t push myself any further either. “How about another drink for the road and then we call it a night?” I suggest.

  “Would you mind if we have that drink back at the hotel bar? I want to make sure I get you home safely before your flight tomorrow.”

  “That’s probably a good idea.” Though I’m sad our last night is ending.

  As we turn out of the bar, Alistair holds my hand as we walk out to get a taxi. In the taxi, we lean into each other to prop ourselves up. It was probably a good call that we didn’t have our final drink at the bar. One more and someone probably would have found me passed out under a table in the morning.

  Alistair pays for our cab ride, and we head to the hotel’s main bar area where we each order the most complicated tropical drink on the menu.

  As we sip our drinks, Alistair becomes more serious. “This has been a great week. Thanks to you, I realized that I do remember how to have fun.”

  “Aw, thanks. The feeling is mutual.” I clink my glass against his again and rest my head on his shoulder in this very kumbaya moment. “Also, the meditation has helped me, and it’s given me some perspective and something to take back to Chicago with me. But I wasn’t expecting to have this much fun as well, and that’s all thanks to you.”