Letting go in Escazú

A journey of love and detachment

Greetings from Escazú, a district in San José, Costa Rica, where large villas dot the hills and overlook American-style polished storefronts. I find myself here on a different kind of journey—a mission of love and support. I've come to help a family member navigate health challenges while trying to maintain a difficult balance – offering support without becoming a rescuer.

This district is like Beverly Hills, with a bit too much concrete for my taste. The wealth here comes with its own set of ironies—like the neglected dog that barked starting at 4 AM, its absentee owner oblivious to the disturbance.

Yet, amidst the sterile affluence, nature persists. The calls of kiskadees punctuate the air, and hummingbirds flit past my window, reminding me of nature’s beauty and tenuous presence.

My temporary home is an experience in itself. Jorjay, the caretaker-turned-"butler," marvels at my espresso consumption. The house, with its musty smell and gaudy even pornographic art—including a rather graphic depiction of Adam and Eve's demise—reminds me that money can’t buy taste.

As I settle into this unfamiliar environment, I'm discovering that my real journey isn't about the place, but about finding the right way to be present for my family member without overstepping boundaries. I’m learning about control, surrender, and the true nature of support.