Where the Color Took Root

Where the Color Took Root

What Came Alive When I Let It All Breathe

There are some places that seem to wake something up in us before we fully understand what is

happening.

Costa Rica was one of those places for me.

Maybe it was the green that seemed to stretch in every direction. Maybe it was waking up surrounded by the sounds of the jungle, watching monkeys move through the trees and blue morpho butterflies flash through the morning. Maybe it was the humidity settling onto my skin, the thunderstorms cracking overhead, or the ocean reminding me just how small I am in the very best way.

Whatever it was, I found myself paying attention differently.

And somewhere inside all of that attention, something became clearer.

Not something new.

Something that had already been growing.

When Everything Felt More Alive

One of the things I noticed almost immediately in Costa Rica was how awake my senses felt.

I wanted to see everything.

I listened for toucans, monkeys, macaws, frogs, and sounds I couldn't identify. Even the cicadas, which I fully expected to drive my noise-sensitive self crazy, eventually became part of the rhythm around me.

Somewhere along the way, I stopped hearing them as noise.

I started hearing the waves inside their sound.

And strangely enough, they became one of the things that relaxed me.

Apparently growth sometimes sounds like making peace with a cicada.

But it wasn't only what I could see or hear.

Food tasted different. The air smelled different. The rain felt different against my skin. I noticed the ground beneath my feet and the feeling of salt water in my hair.

I felt more connected to the physical world around me, but I also felt closer to something within myself.

I wasn't becoming someone different.

I felt more like parts of me that already existed had been given enough space to come forward.

Enough space to breathe.

When Connection Becomes Care

That sense of connection followed me into the experiences I had with my cousin Shai, 7 Wandering Backpacks, and the work being done alongside Innoceana.

I watched children learn about marine life through science, art, and experience. I watched Shai use something she loves, art, as a way of helping children connect with animals they were learning about.

I watched passion become participation.

And I was reminded that education can change the way we experience something.

Before snorkeling, we spent time learning to identify some of the fish we might see. Once I was in the water, I wasn't simply looking at fish swimming beneath me anymore.

I was recognizing them.

Parrotfish. Angelfish. Triggerfish. Pufferfish.

And, much to my excitement, a moray eel.

Knowing what I was looking at changed the experience.

It made me curious.

And curiosity created connection.

That stayed with me because I think sometimes learning what to look for changes what we're capable of seeing.

And once we truly begin seeing something, it becomes much harder not to care about what happens to it.

What We Choose to Tend

That care became physical during a beach cleanup.

My family and I have participated in cleanups before, so picking up trash from a beach wasn't a new experience for me.

But something about doing it there, surrounded by everything I had been noticing and learning, landed differently.

Environmental problems can feel enormous.

One person standing on one beach holding one piece of plastic can seem insignificant compared with the scale of what needs to change.

But there was something in front of me that didn't belong there.

So I picked it up.

And then I picked up the next thing.

Maybe tending doesn't always begin with knowing how to fix everything.

Maybe sometimes it begins with caring for what is within our reach.

I saw another version of that through the work being done to repurpose plastic waste into things that can have another life.

And that brought me to a word I kept returning to throughout the trip.

Restoration.

I've always thought about restoration as repairing something that has been damaged.

But maybe restoration isn't about returning something to some untouched, perfect version of what it once was.

Maybe it is about protecting what remains, repairing what we can, and creating conditions where life has the opportunity to grow again.

The more I thought about restoration that way, the less it felt like a word that belonged only to Mother Earth.

The Conditions for Life

Costa Rica didn't create my love for Mother Earth.

That relationship has been part of my path for a long time.

It exists in my walks, my connection with trees, the things I've been learning, the places I'm drawn to, the cleanups I've participated in, and the way being outside has always helped me return to myself.

But Costa Rica turned the volume up.

Being surrounded by so much color and life made me recognize something about myself too.

There are conditions where I come alive differently.

There are places, practices, people, experiences, and ways of moving through the world that seem to give certain parts of me more room.

That doesn't mean I need to move to the jungle and spend the rest of my life befriending cicadas.

Let's not get carried away.

But it does mean I can pay attention to what those experiences are showing me.

I can notice what nourishes me.

I can notice what makes me curious.

I can notice where I feel connected.

And I can become more intentional about creating conditions for those parts of myself to continue growing.

Maybe that is another form of restoration.

Not returning to who I used to be.

Tending to who I am becoming.

Bringing the Color Home

Coming home was where the deeper question began.

How do I bring some of that aliveness with me?

Obviously, I couldn't pack the jungle into my suitcase. The blue morphos weren't coming home with me, and the cicadas were definitely staying in Costa Rica.

But the attention could come home.

The curiosity could.

The willingness to participate could.

And so could the growing clarity around something that has already been taking root in my life.

My connection with Mother Earth doesn't feel separate from the other things I care about anymore.

My walking, my relationship with trees, what I've been learning, the ways I want to serve, and the work I am building through Find Your Way2Vyb seem to be finding one another.

I don't know exactly what that becomes.

And for once, I don't feel the need to rush toward an answer.

Costa Rica didn't hand me a new purpose.

It helped me see more clearly a direction I was already moving.

I know I want Mother Earth to have a greater place in the life I am creating.

I want to continue learning.

I want to participate in restoration and care.

And I want to explore the relationship between restoring the world around us and creating the conditions that allow something within us to come alive too.

Maybe those things were never as separate as I thought.

Let It All Breathe

There is one more thing I brought home from Costa Rica that doesn't fit neatly into a lesson.

The people.

There were so many moments of kindness shared between people who didn't necessarily speak the same language.

Sometimes it was a smile.

Sometimes laughter.

Sometimes encouragement.

Sometimes simply being welcomed into a space.

And over and over again, I was reminded that love doesn't seem to need much translation.

Maybe it is one of the most universal languages we have.

There is still so much I don't know about where all of this leads.

But maybe I don't need to.

Maybe not everything growing within us needs to be named the moment we notice it.

Maybe not every direction needs an immediate destination.

Sometimes we can tend to what is there.

Give it our attention.

Give it some room.

Give ourselves some room.

Let it all breathe.

And then notice what begins to grow.

Walk slowly, breathe deeply, and may you always Find Your Way2Vyb.

With Love and Gratitude,

 Amber

This reflection was inspired by Episode 32 of Find Your Way2Vyb, Where the Color Took Root: What Came Alive When I Let It All Breathe. Listen wherever you enjoy podcasts, or continue the journey at FindYourWay2Vyb.com.

✨ If you feel called to share your Way2Vyb, express your gratitude, or recommend someone to be honored, you can submit a form on the contact page.

Want to Learn More?

If something I shared here sparked your curiosity and you’d like to learn more about some of the work I had the opportunity to experience while I was in Costa Rica, I wanted to leave you with a couple of places to start.

7 Wandering Backpacks is very close to my heart, not only because of my cousin Shai, but because I’ve been able to see the love she puts into helping people, animals, communities, and causes she cares deeply about. Getting to actually stand beside her in Costa Rica and experience a small piece of that work for myself made it even more meaningful.

You can learn more about 7 Wandering Backpacks, follow what they’re doing, or find ways to support their work here:

7 Wandering Backpacks: https://www.7wanderingbackpacks.com/

I also encourage you to learn more about Innoceana and the work they are doing to protect our oceans, educate the next generation, and help people better understand and connect with the marine life we share this planet with.

Being able to spend time with their team, learn from them, and participate in some of that work gave me an even deeper appreciation for what can happen when education, connection, and care come together.

Innoceana: https://innoceana.org/

And I have a feeling this part of the journey is only beginning.

Shai will be joining me on an upcoming episode of Find Your Way2Vyb, where we’ll talk more about 7 Wandering Backpacks, some of the experiences that have shaped her along the way, and what keeps her wanting to give back wherever her travels take her.

Because if there’s one thing this experience reminded me of, it’s that we don’t have to change the whole world all at once.

Sometimes we just care for what is in front of us.

And then we let that care ripple outward.