I’m back from ten days filming in Costa Rica with Outward Bound Peace Builders. We trekked across the mountains to the Pacific. My boots are on the back porch trying to finally get dry. It appears to be as hard to pull the rainforest from my boots as it is to draw conclusions from the route they took. I haven’t looked at the footage. I’m enjoying the mish-mash of experiences the clutter that descends after, unfiltered or ordered.
I’ve been thinking how wonderful warm porridge is, how slippery a rock can be and how going down is just as hard as going up. I’ve mostly been remembering bits of conversations, fragments really; “I want their daughters to grow up without pain or fear.” “I’m here at a crossroads and must choose a path.” “…both sides love the land that could be what brings them together.” “Where I live you have to be so careful.”
My boots will be dry by Friday but they are not the same the path is etched in the leather. They fit now. We trust each other.