We Be Livin In Da Moment Mon

Our time in Belize has been a lesson in living in the moment.  Looking back, I realize that this lesson was foreshadowed at the border when the guy at the car insurance booth told us that Kriol, one of Belize's many languages, doesn't use overt verb tense markers in speech that distinguish past from present; meaning, everything seems to happen in the present--even yesterday.

Then we had the whole van debacle where we tried to have the tires rotated but wound up with a broken van that pulls hard to the right due to possible bent tie rods. Anyone that knows Tree knows that this was a fist-shaking to the heavens unjust turn of fate. Tree is the type of person who crosses his Ts and dots his Is.  He makes sure that this family is prepared by getting in front of problems before they occur—hence the tire rotation. So, to have the tire guys break the van and leave us stranded in Belize for up to two weeks while we frantically try to find foreign tie rods and a Mercedes mechanic was quite a blow. This incident was not in the plan. Defeated, my sweet hubby-to-be looked at me and said, “I just wanted to be a good fiancé and a good father. But now I’ve totally Mosquito Coasted this family...Are we still going upstream mother?”  To which I replied, “Yes, dear. Yes we are.”

With nothing to do but wait, the next day we went diving. I haven’t been diving since our awesome trip to Cozumel last April with John Sr. and Diane, so I was a little nervous about braving the depths again. For some reason, my mind likes to envision all the possible things that could go wrong when I’m 100 feet underwater.  This is what it’s like to be me diving:

Where’s Tree? Oh there he is, right next to me.  Can a mask implode? It’s been baking in the rocket box for months now. Is this damn thing on tight enough? I’m afraid to touch it. What if I have to vomit? Gross. What if Tree gets eaten by a shark? That one over there looks hungry.  Where’s Tree? Oh there he is, right next to me. What if I run out of air and Tree doesn’t understand my hand signal because Mr. Stop Worrying and Just Relax refuses to go over the safety manual with me! What’s my air at now? Oh my god, I’ve sucked up half my tank in five minutes. Breathe slow, in out in out in out. That’s too fast, breathe long, iiinnnnn ouuttttttttttttttttt, crap I feel like that’s using more air than before.  

This goes on and on until I finally get sick of hearing myself babble and I tell myself to shut up and just look around.  Oh, wow, a fishy! And that of course is when I calm down, breathe right, and actually enjoy the experience. It feels good to be present and aware, and it feels bad to go round the mad merry-go-round of the mind. Most of the time, I find that the things that I’m afraid of exist only in my head, anyway, which makes me wonder, how often does my mind’s commentary rob me of the joy of living? 

The next day, Tree went into Belize City to take the Sprinter to get a second and third opinion, and you’ll never believe what happened. They rebalanced the tires and Presto! The van is fixed! No broken tie rods, no busted ball bearings, no Argentina or Bust! board hanging from Kiki’s neck.  The family is mobile again.

I’m really proud of all of us. When we thought that the van was broken, and that our plans were seriously delayed, we didn’t crumble. We took everything in stride, we kept dealing with the task at hand, and we never stopped enjoying the moment. That is the key to happy living in Sprinter Life. -Stevie