An Inconvenience Or Adventure?

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I've been home for over a week now, feeling as though the world that I left behind in mid-September is gradually coming back into focus, like a slow loading picture. Jet-lag after international travel, has always been an unwelcome side trip for me.

The entire trip from Kona to Kandui Resort took roughly 31 hours, not including an overnight stay in Padang. It felt like The Journey With No End, though once we arrived on the tiny island off the coast of Western Sumatra, the momentum changed.

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The sound of the ferry boat's high revving engine (is there just one?) eased to a hum as the island appeared. Once the engine was off, we could hear the waves slapping, maybe even clapping.

For the next ten days there were no sirens, car horns or planes flying overhead. All we heard were birds, the ocean, and the occasional motorboat or jet-ski taking surfers out to meet the waves.

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The sun rose from the ocean,

 and lit the horizon as it set behind us each evening. It's just the way it's done there.

and lit the horizon as it set behind us each evening. It's just the way it's done there.

 Gradually, as jet-lag begins to fade, so do my thoughts about the grueling trip to and from the island.  All of the moving parts are blending in with the still shots. I more readily recall the silence within our  uma  and the absolute absence of anything I  had  to do.  

Gradually, as jet-lag begins to fade, so do my thoughts about the grueling trip to and from the island.  All of the moving parts are blending in with the still shots. I more readily recall the silence within our uma and the absolute absence of anything I had to do.  

 Jet-lag may simply be the way my psyche chooses to tell me to hold on.  Hold on to the images, the sounds, smells and tastes. Hold on to them as you step back into your world. Don't be in such a hurry, things will never be the same, anyway.

Jet-lag may simply be the way my psyche chooses to tell me to hold on. Hold on to the images, the sounds, smells and tastes. Hold on to them as you step back into your world. Don't be in such a hurry, things will never be the same, anyway.

An adventure is only an inconvenience rightly considered. An inconvenience is only an adventure wrongly considered.
— Gilbert K. Chesterton

The Secret Message

Let your hopes, not your hurts, shape your future.
— Robert Schuller

Fourteen years ago, I had that Schuller quote made into a wall decal for the yoga studio I was about to open. I peeled off the backing and pasted it up high to face our classes, right above the position where I thought instructors would sit. After I came off the ladder and stepped back a few feet, I realized that my color choice was too light and the words practically blended into the wall. Harrumph!

I didn't want the quote to be a distraction as I easily imagined people squinting to read the writing on the wall.  Luckily, before the first class, I was given an Indonesian-style wood carving that completely obscured the sentence and no one knew of the hidden message.

A few days ago, I came across that quote again and recalled the hopes I had had for my studio and the people it would serve. I had meant for it to motivate folks to look past their physical discomforts (the studio also offered massage and acupuncture) and focus on their hopes of well-being. No one saw the quote but it was always, the underlying intention.

So much has changed in the fourteen years since I carefully positioned, then hastily covered those words.  What astounds me, is that much of what I hoped for during those years that I sat or moved under that sentence, I now have in my life. It's as though, what I intended for others to do, so I did. Curious thought.

This much I do know, when you focus on what you want, not on what you don't want, the journey and the destination are just what you hoped for, maybe even more. Please, may I never forget that.

Let your hopes, not your hurts, shape your future.

 

Image: A page from my art journal.

 

#NaPhoPoMo Day 10: Morning Light

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I love the way sunlight falls into the kitchen every morning. I don't switch on the light above the sink, even while using a sharp knife because I like the contrast of light and dark. It's one of those times when a recorded warning sounds in my mind and I recall hearing my paternal grandmother saying how frightening it is to watch a left-hander use a knife. So far, I've never cut myself with a right-handed knife.

Right now, my favorite breakfast is an apple, a banana, and a fistful of frozen mixed berries folded into some coconut yogurt with healthy splash of cinnamon. As soon as I'm done with my knife, I wash and dry it and stick it back in the holder.

I cherish my set of Shun knives and treat them with more care than any other kitchen appliance.  Be careful if you ever use my knives though, the blades all face left. Because I'm only 5'4", when I pull a knife out of the wooden block the blade comes up to my face so I feel safer with it facing away from me. My grandma, long since departed, would be afraid, very afraid.


During the month of November, as part of NaPhoPoMo, I intend to post at least one photo a day here. Sometimes with a little story, sometimes with only a caption, always in the hope of resisting the urge for it all to be perfect.

Photo: Leica V-Lux20.