What is it about Hawaii? Why does everything seem so green here? Why does the ocean and the air have such a calming affect. An orchestra when combined with the chirp of the birds, the tinkling of crabs feet and the rustle of the shy lizard.
Could man even dream of building a paradise like this? Where the water both cools and warms and even the sharpest of rocks underneath ones feet feel like a solid bearable base supporting the luxury of the land? Where even the sand between your toes and other bodily crevasses, feels like a small memento of the island ingraining itself in you, connecting you and consuming you.
Ah Hawaii, how you have planted yourself in my heart, mind and soul.
It's my last day here. The sun is warm. The air is moist. The water gently washes at my torso in some ways trying to wash away the faults, failures and faux pas of the past. Bathing away civility, society and notoriety. Lapping at my legs.
I smile. There is God. There is life. There is a deep rooted connection between humanity and Mother Earth. She is kind to us who take the time to be still and hear her voice. And in Hawaii she speaks softly but clearly. The beauty is immense, so much so, my eyes well up with tears knowing the secret of paradise is that you must not stay. For then like all things, it becomes the norm and you take her for granted.
No you must rise from the green grasses, the coconut trees and the exotic fruit. Just like rising from a sleeping lover and dressing. One must firm themselves on the present and purpose and with a gentles kiss, a caress of her shiny black hair; leave.
Onto new islands and glass buildings. Vibrating smart watches and scheduled meetings. Alarm clocks and study books. Presentations and performance reviews. Closing deals and opening new doors.
Paradise is not lost, but left.
My bittersweet thoughts are heard by Hawaii and Mother Nature. And as a reminder of presence and the Power of Now. A turtle swims up next to me. Is it a smile on his noble face? He blinks at me tiredly and lazily paddles up to the wet sand. I cannot help grinning stupidly, self consciously but glad of the moment of learning.
Mr Turtle clambers up. Shell glistening in the sun after his swim through the rocks, waves and tides. He sinks into the sand and yawns. There is no wild thoughts in this little fellows head. There is no thought of tomorrow. There is no past to drag him down and confuse his purpose. No it is rest. Rest in the place of rest.
And what rest it has been. Waking up to the sun. Going to bed with the moon and the bright stars that gleam in unpolluted night.
The souls of the sky shine brightly when we put our lights and smog from so called progress.
Hawaii. Aloha. Mahalo.
Your lessons have not been lost. I shall leave on the back of your winds of fortune and return some day soon. And listen once again to whistle of the bird, the sound of ocean on rock and the gentle whisper of Mother Earth and her wisdom.