The first time I saw “Pura Vida” was completely unromantic. The phrase was in an email signature from a waterfall hike tour company I reached out to. I read it on my couch—swaddled by my robe, blanket, and cats—a valiant effort that ultimately failed the battle against winter’s warfare.
Flying solo, I had two personal goals:
- To remember what sunshine felt like in the dead of winter
- To get reinspired after a three-year hiatus from teaching yoga