So what about compassion?
It became the engineer I found at the hotel, who told me I had no coolant or engine oil,
who bought my dinner and glass of white wine.
And the man in the tow truck, who brought a new rental car in the night from 2 hours away and asked
if I wanted him to pick up anything else along the way.
Gratitude was the beach with moving water
and rugged sand, and the hike I took with a view of translucent landscape I never would have seen
if I hadn’t allowed myself to go there alone.
And the conversations I had, sitting by the pool in the valley, about my Costa Rica tee shirt, art, music.
And the writing.
Those remembrances of myself reflected back to me from the kind strangers I met at the hotel,
and along the way.