Pixie in Paradise

Let me be very clear: Mo Moments are absolutely NOT the same as Kevin Moments – if you’ll recall that scenario. The only similarity between the two is that I have to regulate my emotions, but the set of emotions involved in each respective “moment,” are completely different from each other. Is either one better or worse than the other? On the surface we like to think so but internally it manifests as undealt-with emotion which seems to really rear its ugly head on modes of transportation. I was on a shuttle bus headed for Panamá when I wanted to choke Kevin, and I’ve been in shuttles and Ubers these last few days when tears flow and of course there’s no point in trying to explain it to a confused Uber driver, given the language barrier when I’m all angsty in their backseat.

“Mo Moments” have been hitting me even before I left Playa Negra, my Caribbean home. I always knew I’d be leaving for a while and knew Mo would have to stay behind. I get it, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t had a few weak moments or sad moments where the tears just fell or I hyperventilated for a second picturing life after I left and my sweet jungle cat stayed behind. There have been several of those moments since Friday, when I left, headed north for Chepe (San Jose).

I’ve spent these first few days relaxing, doing a little sightseeing and temporarily settling in. Starting to figure out how to repack all of my belongings as I wait for all of the loads of laundry to be washed, half of them hung dry and some items in an actual dryer for a change. I busy myself with these small necessary tasks and when I am homesick for Playa Negra and all the creatures I love there – two and four-legged – I stop, lay down and just feel the feels. It’s the only way through. Then I get up and resume whatever it was I was doing.

At 8am on day 3 in San Jose, I got up and while searching on my phone for stores nearby, I accidentally stumbled upon a nearby yoga studio on the map close to my apartment. There was a 9am class and since my morning was open and it had been way too long since I have been to a yoga class, I decided to hurry and get ready for it. The studio was a 10-minute walk and I headed out the door at 8:45am. I lost a few minutes waiting for the GPS app to catch up to me and therefore quickly had to reroute a couple of times. Once I got to the exact address, I saw nothing but streets of very cute houses. The neighborhood was nice and quiet but the only thing that led me to believe I was where I needed to be was a big Om symbol painted on the side of one of the houses. The garage was closed and there didn’t appear to be anyone moving around in the house. As I was about to walk away, a car pulled up and a woman with a yoga mat got out. I watched her walk to the garage door and push a doorbell. I crossed the street to be next to her, someone unlocked the door next to the garage, and we both walked in.

This was someone’s house! Oh no, I had just walked into a complete stranger’s house. My eyes were still adjusting inside and it was a little dark due to the immensely bright sun outside that morning. The house was very quiet, just the woman and I but soon the instructor – the owner of the house – appeared, and I quickly asked if this was a private or public class. Luckily the instructor spoke Spanish and English so communication wasn’t too complicated. She introduced herself and asked my name then pointed to the cubbies where bags and shoes were stored. As I put my things down I noticed a small creature in the middle of the floor where we were standing. Still very dimly lit in there, but I knew what it was.

It was a tabby cat.

Without a doubt this was a little gray tiger tabby, same as Mo, except this one was exuding female energy. I didn’t even have to look at the back side to  know there were no swinging balls on this one. She was a female feline  through and through. She let me pet her a few times and my heart melted, because of her tiger stripes and cheetah swirls, characteristic fur in tabby cats, same as my little tigrillo. I can’t spell or pronounce her name but I know that it is a nickname based on the Spanish word for turmeric: cúrcuma. When her name was told to me it sort of sounded like “Curcules,” Hercules, with a “C.” 

Whatever her name was, I was enchanted. We were directed into the four-season room just beyond the entryway, where we were, and the kitchen.  This was the sweetest house. It looked to be two stories, with a very small kitchen and dining area, then this nice-sized four season room that opened completely on its back wall onto the backyard. The backyard was completely surrounded by a high fence, keeping it very secure. As we laid down our mats, a very sweet brown dog came through to greet everyone and walk across some yoga mats with a few of his toes. It was clear this dog loved yoga hour and I love it when sweet animals show up for practice. I prayed the cat would just lay down on or next to my mat. That’s all I wanted. It’s all my heart wanted. She decided to ignore her dog brother and the rest of us after a while and stroll to the backyard where she proceeded to roll around on her back. It was the cutest thing and I was so distracted. I wish I had known the instructor or the other yogis. I wish I could have told them that what I needed right then was to sit in that backyard staring at the cat. I didn’t want the yoga or the breathing or the healing it inevitably brings with it, I just wanted to be near the cat. Since I didn’t want them to think I’m crazy or worse, ask me to leave, I took the yoga class – which was great, by the way. I had no idea how expensive this class would be but it was worth it. Eugenia, the instructor, is very gifted and knowledgeable. She has clearly studied and practiced yoga intensely for years. It shows. 
It will be a while before I am mentally and emotionally grounded and ready to teach yoga again and I’m actually fine with that. As I move rapidly toward my return to the US I realize that my life will never look like it used to, or feel like it used to, and I’m grateful for that. I’m especially grateful for the universal – though not scientific – “Cat Distribution System.” Thank you, universe/god, keep sending those tabby cats my way.