Una tarde escandalosa

Ernesto Martinez
May 24
3 min read

Today was a good Sunday.

I don’t do church, so I already had that going for me. Instead, my ritual is the beach, almost daily, with the dogs. Out there, the world opens up. I always find someone to talk to—locals, United Statesian or Canadian immigrants, or national travelers just discovering San Carlos. I give out advice, trade a few short stories about what it’s like to actually build a life here, and point them toward breakfast at Tortuga's or Buena Onda.

"click" from this morning.

Afterward, I went over to caulk my parents’ bedroom window. It needed it. The desert sun was hitting hard, and I smiled thinking about how life here can feel like Groundhog Day. Day after day, it’s just beautiful—not a single cloud in the sky for weeks. But as I worked, I felt that quiet, solid satisfaction that comes with taking care of them. I’m genuinely happy to be here. The reality is, they need their grown children now. My siblings are all in the US with their own families, and I know they rest easier knowing my parents have me.

Later, I told the dogs it was time for a ride. Lucia is only five months old, but if you even whisper the word “car,” she’s practically sitting in the front seat since yesterday waiting for you. Kuma is happy, but he’s not as spry as he used to be. The enthusiasm is there, but his movements are slower now, taking his time to climb up.

I took them to Santa Rosa to get a bone for each from the butcher shop (which they later enjoyed). I cook the bone and they eat up the bone marrow. They're dogs. They like that.

We took the 4Runner TRD out onto the dirt roads to do what it was built for, eventually winding our way down to Piedras Pintas. The water there was incredibly clear. Groups were camped out, laughing and having a good time, while the dogs and I climbed as far as we could take the rocks.

With the sun still heavy on my shoulders, I sat down and just took it in. I looked at the life I'm building here, realizing how fiercely precious my peace has become to me. And when I think about that peace, I’m reminded of a good friend who taught me what it actually means to hold onto it—how to value it, and how to protect it. You know who you are. Thank you for showing me the way to solid ground.

When you live alone, you spend a lot of time in your own head, figuring out what actually matters and what’s just noise. I started thinking about those slick motivational gurus and realized I have my own philosophy to offer. No corporate jargon, no sales pitch. Just me sharing a few truths with you from a life built on my own terms. Here is my style of motivation.

So, here is my top ten list of strange motivations and advice for a better life:

Wake up. Loiter in bed for a minute. Then finally get up because your bladder gives you no choice.
If you have pets, greet them first. Tell them they’re good. Then make coffee. If you don’t drink coffee, you’re on your own.
Check in on the world, but don't live in it. Check the internet, watch the news, and listen to the local radio. Get the picture, realize the world is a weird place right now, and then turn it off.
Have a loose plan. Usually involving whatever work pays the bills.
Move. Lift weights, run, ride a bike. Just do something active to stay active.
Build a hyperdrive or a flux capacitor. Just kidding. Don't do that.
Be entirely at peace doing stupid shit. Just not the kind of stupid that gets you arrested.
Clean your space. Use Fabuloso so the house actually smells fabulous.
Drink a cold glass of water. Eat some food.
Go to sleep. And be quietly thankful that you got to experience the beautiful trivialities of another day.

Tomorrow, I’m changing up the routine. It’s Memorial Day in the States, which means no work for me. I’m hitting the trails on my bike first thing in the morning. The beach, and the dogs, can wait for the afternoon.