Pixie in Paradise

aka Jobs That Don’t Suck

Despite how misleading my last post could seem after you read this one, it’s not. It’s all in your head, just like where I perceive I am is all in mine. Everything I write  is 1000% true. Last time I told us all to find “that thing” that sets our souls on  fire, find  our passion and turn that into our life’s work. I’ve either found mine or really narrowed in on what my life’s work needs to be: writing (and traveling), obviously. Non-fiction storytelling is my sweet spot, along with conversing with all animals, mastering the art of raising chihuahuas and packing suitcases like it’s a life-or-death game of Jenga. While I have found what I live for, what I want to really do with my life – travel and write – I am not able to fully fund my (and Pesto, the cat’s) lifestyles on the currency I am paid from it at this time. Right now I am looking for a job that affords me and my feline companion a way to peacefully and happily run amok on this planet.

***(In case you’re confused about the cat situation, I am back in the US for the  time being with my cat son of ten years (he’s actually 12). His name is Pesto, he was incredibly feral – way wilder than Mo when I found him. Pesto is a three-legged, egg-shaped, cuddly, feisty, middle-aged boy who loves domestic life and loves judging every decision I make and outfit I wear. Pesto and Mo have some similarities but in terms of personality I could never mix them up. Pesto seems insanely happy and relieved that I’m home and I’m thrilled to be with him again, but I’ve already started teaching him Spanish and showing him Central American currency so he’ll know what to do when we go back. He goes where I go now and Mo is going wherever he wants to. I am sure of that. I have to be.)***

While applying for jobs, many of which are in Corporate America because that’s where the decent money is, I started making a list of jobs I really truly would love. If every job paid the same salary, OR when I am independently wealthy and can do whatever I want with my time, these are the jobs I would choose. The “professions” below seem pretty far out of the box in terms of “normal.” Maybe this is an indicator of just how far inside the box we as humans are taught to stay. Many of us have had jobs most of our lives that do not allow for any creativity or imagination. I have been miserable at most of the jobs I’ve had my entire life. I don’t know that I’ve ever woken up excited to go to work. The only saving grace in a lot of cases was working with a great team of people. It wasn’t the job I liked, it was the people, my coworkers. If I didn’t enjoy my coworkers, the job was that much worse.

I work best as an “individual contributor.” In the corporate world this means that I am experienced, not entry level, and it also means I don’t supervise others. I have never wanted to be a manager or supervise other humans because then I would have to censor myself. I wouldn’t be able to say things like, “dumbshit,” and “Listen, fucker…” Management doesn’t seem aligned with my personality. Although I know I’m very capable of it, I’d probably be miserable. Some of these jobs that I’ve made up don’t need much in the way of explanation and a lot of them are similar to each other, but let me provide a little context. Also, believe it or not, they are in no particular order. While I do have some top of the list choices, I refuse to try and order these. Isn’t it interesting how all of the activities that I adore don’t pay me much, or, anything: animal guardian, writer, travel blogger, yogi, latin music dancer?

Central American Feline Social Worker: I travel around Central America making sure as many stray (domestic, not wild, like jaguars) cats as possible are living their best life. I would try to find adequate food sources and homes for some if that seems to be a better option than their vagabond approach to life. Possibly implementing a cat sanctuary in each of the countries in one or more locations. For example, we have a great cat sanctuary in Puerto Viejo, called Los Gatitos de Marlies (Marlie’s Cats). The woman that runs it is from Europe – possibly Germany – and works tirelessly for all of the little Costa Rican stray cats in the Puerto Viejo area. (If you want to donate to her efforts, it would be greatly appreciated as she has had an exceptionally trying year, financially. Right before I left to head back to the US, she bought a piece of land and created a safe outdoor enclosure to house dozens of cats in the jungle). I never got to meet Marlie but admired her effort – and cats – from the other side of the beach.

Doctor of Seashells – I just want to stare at, feel, collect, take pictures of, catalog, journal, you name it. I’ve used seashells to decorate the inside and outside of my house for years. It feels like the most natural thing. This time I came home with black sand, tiny seashells, Sea Hearts and several Ojo de Buey from the Caribbean Sea: all lucky charms, gifts from the ocean, Mother Yemaya.

Butterfly Mother – I saw a short video of a woman who had been raising butterflies for years. She had a small structure in her backyard that houses dozens of cocoons at a time. As they mature, the baby butterflies take flight and spend their first few days, or longer, in the butterfly garden/sanctuary that’s part of the same yard. In Costa Rica, of course, this would hopefully include the stunning Blue Morphos. I have had the astounding pleasure of watching Blue Morphos wander through the same jungles that I have. I even followed one alongside a busy road one day. Not super smart to be distracted by a small beautiful creature while semi trucks come flying down the hill towards you, but it’s almost impossible to look away from one of these blue-winged fairies.

Howler Monkey *Scientist/Observationist, Guardian, Caregiver: I adore all primates/monkeys, but since living so closely to howler monkeys in Central America, I’ve become obsessed with them. I’ve been up close and personal with howlers, capuchins and a little cotton-topped tamarin. In fact, he was on my shoulder, and then a howler tried to eat my straw hat in Panamá. The roaring sound howlers make is like nothing I’ve ever heard before, and whatever frequency that sound wave is, is the most grounding, calming sound for me. *(“Scientist” does NOT mean experiment!)

Baby monkey feeder & Sloth Cuddler: These two jobs have to be on the list for obvious reasons, right? Cute baby wild animals: enough said.

Powdered Goat Milk Courier: Surprise, I toured at least three or more animal rescues and sanctuaries while abroad and the number one item these places are scrambling for is powdered goat milk, specifically this one. Goat milk is a lifesaver – literally – because many mammals can tolerate it as a substitute for their own mother’s milk if they’re orphaned or abandoned. Even in Costa Rica I guess they don’t have a provider for powdered goat milk and I can tell you from personal experience, it is tricky to get something shipped to Costa Rica. I made the dumb mistake of trying to ship a $300 box from Belize to Costa Rica and never received it. It’s stuck in Customs, and shipping is three times more expensive to Costa Rica than from Belize to the US, which is also way more reliable.

If you are making a trip to Costa Rica and can afford to buy one or two of these powdered goat milk containers, please contact/email me and I will reach out to the rescues and ask them what you would do with it once you arrived in the country. I will also check out what you would go through if you have to declare bringing that into Costa Rica as well. Here is a link to a video I made of my experience at the Jaguar Rescue Center. Well worth the visit: beautiful facility, amazing staff, great cafe and gift shop too.

Flying Fox Nutritionist/Caretaker: There are beautiful huge flying foxes in only a few parts of the world. They are actually big fruit bats. They’re a little eerie looking but so cute and I’d love to get the opportunity to witness them up close. That being said, I’ve always been a little skittish of creatures with wings. Baby steps.

Cat Guardian: It doesn’t matter what kind of cat. I’ll do my best with a domestic cat or a cheetah, if it’s completely legal and required for the animals safety and well-being. Truthfully speaking, my famous last words as I walk through the jungle will probably be, “Here kitty, kitty…”

Travel Blogger: I have never been more inspired or felt more creative and happy, as I have during the eight months spent living and traveling through  Central America. Life is NOT easier than what I/we are used to in the US, in many ways it is infinitely harder. It just seems more aligned with what my spirit wants and needs. (Don’t forget – we had plenty of “shit-fuck” moments there)!

Published Author: This job title will most assuredly happen in 2024. I’m working hard to finish a manuscript before the end of this year. Stick around!

Clean Water Access Liason: I grew up in the US in the 80’s, in the country, on a farm. We drank out of garden hoses and many times, the creek. We had a  freshwater creek behind our barn that ran so cold, even in the summer. And of course we always had clean well water on each property we would move to. Once I got older and moved to bigger cities, the city water was always safe to drink. It might not have always been tasty, but it was potable. I got some rather big wakeup calls immediately on arrival to Central America. First, in Belize I had no idea that essentially the entire population of the country has never owned a hot water heater. Most of the entirety of Belize, which is 500,000 people, have grown up taking cold showers – if they had showers. Many areas don’t have full bathrooms or running water in the structures  people reside in. Just once, turn only your cold water on in the shower and try – just try – to wash your hair. I couldn’t do it. I could manage a 20 to 40-second shower to rinse my body, then I’d bend over the kitchen sinks to wash my hair. I also brushed my teeth with bottled water, never from the tap. I think I used the tap water accidentally in Puerto Viejo twice and it turned out fine. The tap water in the capital – San Jose – is safe to drink and use for brushing, which I did. But, it is so highly processed that you can taste the chemicals. To me, chemicals are better than diarrhea, though. We really take clean water (and hot water) for granted. I never will again.

My point: I have never had to think too hard about where my drinking water was coming from, until these last eight months. We don’t always get  passionate about something until it affects us personally. This is just one of the very important causes I was impacted by while on this walkabout, and I hope to be able to work or volunteer in some way with an organization that strives to provide access to clean drinking water for populations that need it.

What would be a really meaningful trip to me is if I could return to Central America with my dad – NOT because we get along that great. Our lifestyles couldn’t be more different and everyone knows I have a few daddy issues, but, my dad is a water witch. I don’t need you to believe me. I have seen him do it numerous times over the last 48 years. He is legit. The situation would be different if he was a con man or scam artist trying to extort money for wild claims of being able to predict where water flows. But the thing is, he can. He is a simple, conservative, god-fearing, usually humble man, and uses his magical gift more often than  not to help people out without getting much in return. I would bet that most of the time he is paid in baked goods or cattle, as he is usually called upon by farmers. They need to put up barns or additional buildings for cattle or more irrigation for crops on their farm and need to know if they have enough water running beneath their land to drill for an additional well. My dad finds water or he doesn’t – and I’ve never seen him be wrong. A month before I moved to Belize I flew to Wisconsin to visit him and my other family, and watched him use a green stick on two different Amish farms to help them find their water veins. He did, both times.

I would love to accompany my dad to Central America and find an organization that works to bring clean water to the communities that need it, and use his amazing gift to help these people. Because they’re my people now too. Everywhere you go, part of your heart stays, remember? I’m starting to leave tiny pieces of my heart all over the world, but I can tell you that the largest part is now in Central America. I wonder if that will ever change.

Multilingual (Spanish/English/French/Italian) Lecturer/Speaker: As an adult, I’ve always enjoyed public speaking. I have a lot to say and may also like the sound of my own voice (I hope that’s not it!). I have also always been fascinated by languages and can say a few words in several different languages already. Nothing overly useful, but interesting just the same. I don’t know what everyone wants to hear me speak about, so I’m open to suggestions. Any ideas for TED Talks?

Book Mobile Driver/Barista: If forced to live in a city, I would like to drive around in a vintage tiny European or Asian truck/van with used books for people to exchange and give out throughout the city, also equipped with juicers and an espresso machine to deliver fresh beverages: a caffeinated book mobile.

Sleeping Animal Photographer: – Why? Because I’m lazy and don’t want to try to convince an animal to strike a pose they aren’t already in. Too much hassle, and animals are never more precious than when they are asleep!

This list might make it a helluva lot easier for you to understand why I struggle so much in corporate America. I’m clearly meant to do magical things. These things will most likely not pay well, but I’d be infinitely happier. I’ve already seen this first hand. I have never been happier in my entire life than when I was hungry or thirsty or stinky or sweaty, wandering around by the Caribbean Sea. During the eight months I was gone I didn’t work. My company wouldn’t let me work in Central America, so I had to leave. This walkabout was more important than keeping a job or any type of status. What I gained by walking away was priceless: freedom, happiness, endings, new beginnings, new cultures, friends, divine intervention like I’ve never seen before. The most interesting thing is that I knew how much money I had and how much was left. Even knowing that and how hard it was to find or afford food sometimes – food is very expensive in Costa Rica and in Caye Caulker, my island in Belize – I have never been more generous with money or food. I don’t mean I was walking around handing out money because I didn’t really do that, but I gave what I had: food, produce, water. I gave part or all of whatever I had that someone needed then replenished it for myself. No matter how little I had left, I had more than most anyone I came in contact with. And, for the first time in my life I feel abundant. Abundant in every way: in blessings, love, opportunities, and even money. I feel abundant – in every way except humidity. I landed back in the desert last week. I have tried to drink enough water and electrolytes to get that tropical glowy look back and it’s just not working!