Just another Saturday morning to everyone everywhere.
Same old, same old.
Our variations of days are so small a range we might as well admit we are all the same. I cannot imagine there is a state of mind that cannot be replicated anywhere – but it is so much nicer in the state of Hawaii.
Blurred days we scant recall, weeks when nothing substantial seemed to happen at all.
Months seem little more than cash-book entries, we have receipts, proof we’ve lived through another cycle.
Where memories, what we recall, we don’t remember at all.
Is it because we haven’t spent enough time making those days worth remembering – or do we devalue them unless they are so vivid they just pop up on auto-recall?
Endless days. And weeks – going through motions. Aren’t we? Some times.
More often than we care to admit.
Each day of my life I walk somewhere (this beach thing only happens here). Each morning’s walk, the same.
Clad in parka and snow boots, or trunks and barefoot – there is a collision of aimless and purpose, deep thoughts and mindlessness, dreams and realities, fantasies and regrets.
Do you feel it too?
I see it here.
On faces – some fresh, some deeply worn.
Thousand expressions. Of wear and weariness, thoughts of being here or wishing to be somewhere else, I see few equalizers in life to match this beach.
All walks of life, all ages, rich and poor – our footprints washed away by the next wave, leaving no sign we were here, no sign our life existed here. Gone, like brushing away some annoying little fly …
column written/ published from the Maui Kamaole, Kihei, Maui, HI
morning walk: 22C(it will be 30 by noon), 72F, clear, pre-dawn walk was moonless, cloudless and star-studded. I could barely see my feet, the sand, the water at 5:45AM but I found my way along. This is the first day I’ve been ‘first out’ on my beach … since there were no footprints, shoeprints or bike tire tracks. I was out before the shorebirds as sand-crabs scurried, knowing their moments of safety were numbered … just another perfect day in paradise
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