Perhaps in another life, I was Hawaiian and I always feel like I’m coming home. Or maybe there’s just something in the air here that makes me feel like I’m half a planet away from anything unpleasant.
Whatever the reason, the moment I step off the airplane and clamber down those familiar metal stairs twenty layers of daily grind fall away. It’s a feeling I get a hankering for about every six months or so…like an internal alarm clock that tells me my psyche is getting threadbare and needs a mend.
And the healing comes quickly.
Day One was spent watching a sea turtle work its way up onto the beach for a sunbathe.
It was fascinating.
I first saw it rolling in the clear crest of a wave as it surged toward the sand, the sun catching it just right as to illuminate the journey.
Each wave carried him a little closer.
There was no hurry.
It made me think about Time and how we humans are enslaved by it.
And I decided that today I would not be.
So I waited and I watched as the power of the surf had its way with that sea turtle. He didn’t mind. He let himself go…patient…suspended and tossed about in that brilliant curl.
He would get to the beach in due time…on that one perfect wave that would propel him to his destination.
He made it. And there I was ready to snap a quick shot.
I thought to myself how odd it felt….
Me with my iPhone…to which I am chained and cannot live without.
And the sea turtle with nothing more than a wave to help it along.
I suspect I will have many more days of contemplating such things.
I want to stay this way forever.