A SLUG IN PARADISE

Kauai time.  Again.  Our annual visit.  I was so sick of the rain and gray at home.  It's brighter here, definitely warmer.  There is sunshine.  And all day yesterday, rain too.  All day.  I've read two novels on this trip so far. Yesterday I read the second of the two -- a whole novel in one day, which I have not done in decades! -- the 10th in Laurie R. King's series of mysteries about super sleuths Mary Russell and Sherlock Holmes wherein the semi-retired Holmes plays the supporting role to his young wife, the intrepid Mary Russell.  Delicious.  Anyway....

I sort of loved yesterday.  Hub and I stayed in our villa, me reading, he playing Solitaire on his phone -- an obsession he picked up after we arrived here and seems not to be able to put aside.  I'm sort of enjoying his mindless playfulness with the thing, since my novels are a companionable distraction for me.  It's very unusual parallel play for us; usually one of is is "being" while the other is "doing" or we are both "doing" and lamenting not enough "being".  Life!

Other things feel different here this trip too.  There is a lot of resort renovation going on, so some areas are closed; there is noise, minor frustration.  Last year I wrote a blog post about the realities behind the "highlight reel" of our stay here and this year I could write the same, and then some.  Maybe this trip has outlived its usefulness as a spring getaway.  Maybe we've overstayed our interest.  Maybe it's time for a change.  We are contemplating NOT coming every year.  In fact, already for next Spring we've booked a Viking River Cruise in Europe, supplanting our usual Kauai timeframe.

That's not to say we aren't having a good time here.  We are. It's just been a slow start, with lots of cloudiness, a rainy afternoon, then rain all day yesterday, me with my migraine/nausea showing up of course, the usual little annoyances of travel, and just a general malaise -- mostly on my part.  I just don't have any energy for much physical activity, which puts me at odds with Hub's idea of fun.  But even he has been much more contented (so far) to "be" and not so much "do."  He brought his inflatable stand up paddle board and in our first 6 days here he's used it only once, briefly.  He does plan a long paddle this afternoon, installing seats to use it as a kayak out on the bay and up the river.

Last year was my favorite Kauai vacation in the nearly 25 years we've come here.  I was confident, happy, energetic, we had great weather,  loved doing lots of physical activities (remember the dreaded mud hike???).  This year I feel like a slug.  Every outing is an effort.  Not sure what's going on.  Maybe I just need to give myself permission to accept this reality and not push myself?  Maybe I need to push myself to get past this slo-mo tendency?  How does one know?  I don't know.

So, have we all enjoyed this whiny, privileged post?  I am grateful to be here, in whatever mental and physical state I'm in.  It's beautiful.  We found a new beach we love.  The pool here is warm enough in spite of a broken pool heater.  Hub's nightly grilled fresh fish is delicious.  We are loving being together with no distractions.  And did I say it's warm???  Ahhh....  

What I need to figure out is...can I stop ruminating on my "physical/mental state" and just trust that I know what I need and then lean into that?  Stay tuned...

At least that's the view from here...©

Photo Credit:  www.pixabay.com

THE WHOLE TRUTH

What people post on Facebook is usually the "highlight reel" of their lives.  I have posted some real reels at times, but I too mostly try to post personal things that are palatable and perky.  (Except for politics, which is generally neither.)

I've posted a daily log with photos of our current Kauai vacation.  It's been fun.  I love to travel vicariously when others post their trips, so I posted mine for those who care.  It's also a bit of a travel diary.

But any true diary must also dive into the depths and not every picture is perfect.  Here is the whole truth as I recall it anyway.  Truth is a momentary thing; everything changes moment to moment, and details get lost or buried under more recent events and memories.  Still...

This has been a GREAT trip overall (3 days to go, so I'm being optimistic about the rest of the week).  Hub and I have been super compatible, loving and easy with each other.  We've been through a rough patch over some period of time, as astute readers have surmised, but we are good now and incredibly grateful for it.  We learned so much about ourselves and each other at this age and stage of life and we are recommitted in a new way in our 70's decade.  Onward!  This trip has been honeymoon quality -- even as we approach our 50th anniversary.  So there are no qualifiers on that part of the highlight reel.

Still, living in a 320 square foot studio condo, (not counting a small balcony with a killer view) with only a refrigerator, a microwave, a table, two chairs, and a Murphy bed, is quite cozy.   We've more than managed (thanks to nightly grilling on the grounds), but we've both mentioned it would be nice to spread out a bit.  Things get cluttered and there is no privacy and if one of us is awake, we both are...you know, that sort of thing.  It gets a wee bit claustrophobic, but we are outdoors most of the time, so there's that.  We live in a tiny house here!  All the rage!

Our location has seemed noisier to me this time.  We are not out in the boonies -- there is a commercial area not far away; a couple of restaurants; a smaller adjacent beach used by mostly locals at all hours of the day/night with someone's booming bass blaring from their cruising cars at times.  The grounds are beautiful and that doesn't happen by magic: there are times of mowers, blowers, and trimmers making noise.  Planes fly over on their way to land at the nearby airport, but this is not as big a deal as you might think -- the airport is close, but flights are few and the pounding waves mostly drown out the engine noise thankfully. There are frequent overhead helicopter tour flights though.  And people. Turns out we are not the only people here.  The beach is not crowded, but it can get noisy with voices, yelling, laughter, kids screaming, music playing.  It's just people having fun, but I'm just noting it's noisy.

And did I mention the waves?  I know, it's crazy to complain about the beautiful, supposedly peaceful rhythm of the waves hitting the shore, but you guys!  It's loud!  And relentless!  We are super close to the ocean. We've had particularly high waves in the bay this time and they don't lap at the sand, they crash!  At first we left the balcony doors open at night but after the first 10 days, I started to close the doors.  I found I was less distracted by the occasional hum of the air conditioner.  I slept better.  (I'm very noise sensitive, which I am learning more about in some work I'm doing with my therapist -- another blog post!)

Speaking of sleeping...the pillows are too lumpy and the studio Murphy beds, which used to feel great, are in need of replacement.  I mean, it's not terrible, but it's not great.  I'm putting a word in to our Board of Directors to use some of our maintenance fees for a studio update on the bed front.  Bad pillow = sore neck.

Here you are wondering...Murphy Bed????  Yes,  this entire timeshare is a "hotel conversion", not purpose-built full amenity condos.  We knew that going in and if I have any complaint it's that. There are inconveniences.  But we keep coming back for all the things that make up for it.  

The unit we have is a one bedroom with a "lock off".  If we stayed in the whole unit we'd have a King bed in a separate room with another bath along with our current living area (couch without pulling the Murphy Bed down) and kitchenette.  BUT that would cost us a bunch of timeshare points that would mean a shorter stay.  We can stay over twice as long if we use only the "parlor" side (I call it the studio) which eliminates the King bedroom/second bath, but gives us the Murphy bed side with kitchenette and full balcony.  The bedroom side is "locked off" for use by another guest, similar to adjoining hotel rooms and theirs is basically just a hotel room with a mini-fridge; no balcony.  So we like our arrangement fine.  Except for the lumpiness I'm experiencing this time.

We make way too many trips to the grocery store.  Granted, Hub goes alone at times, but we also try to combine this chore with other outings so I have to set foot in Costco, Safeway and Times (local supermarket) too often, which at home I rarely do, leaving grocery shopping to Hub who seems not to hate it and in fact enjoy it. Not my thing. He's weird.  Anyway in the quest for fresh fish, bagged salads, ripe fruit, and sunscreen it seems we always need to shop.  

And there is lugging -- towels, paddle board, backpack to the beach; groceries and excursion equipment from the parking lot to the building (a good 1/3 mile!), long hall to the elevators and a walk to the beach and pool -- getting lots of steps and it's fine, just at times inconvenient.  We try hard not to forget anything and have to go back.

This has been the most active vacation I've ever done.  I've recently lost weight, gotten in better shape, and have enjoyed challenging myself and my new body as well as my less hesitant, less fearful mind.  That said, my body hurts.  The mud hike (previously documented in this blog) sent me into a tailspin of PTSD and migraine for a day.  Then a few days later another half-day migraine with nausea.  My feet have been sore, my knees have ached.  I stubbed my toe on a hunk of lava rock and scraped my hand on a piece of coral.  Both still hurt a week later. I've taken more Ibuprofen in two weeks than I usually take in months!  And throughout all of this trip I've had nagging queasiness on and off.  Maybe different routine? Food? Activity?  Anxiety? Not sleeping great? Just feel a wee bit "off" at times, even when I'm having fun.  It's not stopping me; I'm just noticing and breathing through it. But I don't like it.  

So, today I started packing, if not in my suitcase at least in my mind.  I can tell I'm turning toward home even while still here.  It's cold and rainy at home; there will be all the same old chores to do and responsibilities to meet. Once there I'll look back on this trip with great fondness and probably even longing for lazy days at the beach and pool, for the sun, the warmth, even the waves.  But I'll have Hub with me (the best part of this trip), will return to my familiar routine, and will see my family and get ready for my son and daughter-in-law's long-Covid-delayed wedding celebration for which I have to buy a fancy dress...my life will return to "normal".

We've been coming here for almost 25 years.  We love it.  All of these observations are just to document that Paradise can be less than paradisiacal at times, especially if one is a bit hot, cranky, tired.  The Facebook highlight reel doesn't tell the whole story, but hopefully it tells the story of how grateful we are to get to spend time here.

Still, travel -- even fabulous, fun, exciting, relaxing travel -- is stressful for me and at a certain point home beckons every time.  At heart I'm a homebody.  And I'm ready.

At least, that's the view from here...©

ROCKIN' HOT BOD ON THE BEACH

At the risk of sounding insufferable I'm about to write a motivational piece you will either love or hate.  At various times in my life I, too, would have read this either way.  Now, proceed, and see where you fall on the love/hate spectrum...and why.

Readers may recall I've been using the Noom app to guide me toward the goal of a healthier weight for my diminutive height (5'2").  I've long said that my weight is fine; it's my height that needs improvement.  No amount of standing tall in Mountain Pose has been successful in gaining vertical inches.  I've been reduced to reducing my girth.

I've been on Noom for a few days over a year.  I have LOVED it.  It's the first program with which I've found lasting success and the desire to keep up my new habits.  It's all based on introspection, psychology, nutrition, habit awareness and change, and constant positive reinforcement.  Right up my alley.  And with any program there is no substitute for determination and commitment, so there's that too.  

At the very beginning clients are encouraged to figure out Your Big Picture -- the big WHY one wants to change.  My Big Picture is to grow older with health and vitality so I can be an active part of my grandchildren's lives.  That has motivated me consistently, where lesser desires have not.  I've always rationalized my way around other goals and have not been able to sustain my plan.  There is no rationalizing my way around this one.  So many unforeseen things can happen to us -- illness, accident, a tragic diagnosis -- but if something is within my control, I want to use my powers of mindfulness, determination, and commitment to mitigate foreseen factors in ill health.  At least that's the plan.

So, yes, I've lost weight. I've spent decades hiding from the camera, or behind other people, or hitting the delete option until I was nearly erased from documentation of family life.  This trip to Kauai I seem to be hogging the camera.  I'm proud of not feeling embarrassed at how I look.  Hub is having fun taking photos of me without me scowling or protesting.

Does this mean I have reached Perfect Body Image Land?  Is there such a thing?  No.  I'm still chunky around the middle -- it's genetic!  Look at photos of my parents!!!  My legs are skinny and I have no booty to speak of.  I tried a series of yoga poses on the beach and the resulting photos are not super great.  My tummy hangs down in Plank Pose and projects out in all the Warrior Poses even though I was going for a strong core.  I'm almost straight up and down since I don't have a very pronounced waistline from boobs to hips (notice this in Tree Pose).  I rarely post photos of myself here on the blog, but I'm posting this one -- with trepidation -- so you can have a field day critiquing my less than perfect body.  It will help you feel better.  I'm no swimsuit or Yoga Journal model.  Hardly anyone is.  

BTW, the tan is fake -- thanks to Jergens Natural Glow tanning lotion.  I'm not letting the sun touch my lily white Northern European skin any more after indiscretions of my youth that have come back to haunt me and my dermatologist.  But I like a little sun-kissed look when in Hawaii, so I use the lotion which gradually darkens the surface layer of skin temporarily and will fade in a few days if I don't reapply.  I guess that's vanity.  You can judge.  But as vanities go...  And if "tan" isn't your thing, that's perfect too! You be you!

We can all self-criticize to death -- sometimes literally as those with eating disorders have done.  Body image is a thing Noom focused on in our lessons last week with the encouragement to stand in front of the mirror either clothed or unclothed and focus on all the things you like about your body.  Try it.  It's hard.  We are so programmed to find fault.  Our culture tells us how to look and if we don't (no one does) we feel shame.  

Here's what I'm noticing...I can paddle, walk up hills and over rough terrain, hike, climb over rocks, get up and down from the chair or the floor, or the ridiculously low-seated car we've rented,  twist and turn, stand on one leg (for a second or a minute depending on the day).  My poofy belly has nothing to do with my ability to be mobile and sorta agile, on a good day.   (Yoga has A LOT to do with it!)  Losing weight has helped with my stamina, yes, and for that I'm grateful.  

But judging myself by how I look and not how I move through the world is silly.  My granddaughters have healthier body image ideas than I do!  They love who they are and what they can do and neither of them is "perfect" except in the way we all are.  Self acceptance, doing our best, taking a risk, being mindful, and being gentle with ourselves in the process all serves us no matter what our goals in life.

No matter our limitations, from injury, illness, genetics, or self-imposed judgement (the worst limitation!), we can define Our Big Picture to motivate us toward a goal of self-discovery and self-acceptance and maybe even a small, but mighty change in the body's ability to support us as best it can going forward.

At least, that's the view from here...©

P.S. Just as I'm ending this post... I skipped our walk today and Hub just got back.  He took a fall on a slope on loose red rock and his Apple Watch asked if he fell and if he was OK.  He is...just a scraped knee like a 6 year old.  But see?  Technology has our backs even when we are fit, agile, and in great shape, like he is.  So, yes, anything can happen.  But our Big Picture goals can see us through and the nice people at Apple will call an aid car if you need one. Win-Win!

HIKING HYSTERIA IN THE JUNGLE

Hmmm...usually I just sit on the beach or walk around the ginormous pool here at "our" resort on Kauai on our annual visits.  I have gone on a few hikes over the past 25 years of coming here; mostly hated them.  Swore them off at one point.  But this past year, motivated by fully entering my 70s decade, I've lost a bunch of weight and got myself into fairly decent shape and decided maybe hiking could come back on to the itinerary for this visit.  Easy-breezy. 

So we perused the guide book and decided to follow the advice that "if you only do one hike on Kauai, let it be this one"... up at Waimea Canyon (the Grand Canyon of Hawaii), along a boardwalk trail through the "highest elevation swamp in the country".  8 miles RT.  Sounded fun!  And flat!  We just had to take a 1.8 mile other trail to get to the swamp trail that would then take us to an amazing vista point.  We packed plenty of water, snacks, lunch, bug spray, sunscreen, the "10 essentials" and off we went, feeling maybe a little over-prepared as we saw others in flip flops, little kids, older folks heading out too.  

The sun was shining.  The sky was blue.  Weather report promised "zero precipitation" for the afternoon.  Immediately we headed down a rough rocky track as wide as a road, our hiking poles providing some steadying support, but barely needed actually.  On our left was a huge and breathtaking view of the ocean at the Napali Coast.  There was a precipitous drop off on that side, but only a fool would get that close to the edge of the earth.  We are not fools and have a healthy fear of heights. No problem. Most folks only went this far and turned back to the parking lot.  That was the flip flop crowd.  But we journeyed on.

Soon we entered a tranquil forest, the flat walking path cushioned with leaves and we had plenty of shade.  This was short-lived.  No sooner had I had a moment of gratitude for this lovely easy trail, it opened onto a steep rocky climb through roots and rocks that required planting my poles and hoisting myself up to the the next rock, and the next, and the next.  It was steep!  But I figured this was just a little rough patch and once up top (I couldn't really see the trail above me anymore) all would even out again and be a breeze.

This was wishful thinking.  The next mile or so was a horror show of constant up and down rocks and roots and ruts, poles helping in some spots, and just in the way in others where hand holds on roots, limbs, and rocks provided more assistance in pulling myself upward and hanging on to keep myself from falling/sliding downward.  Hub was there to steady me as well, but he had his own path to forge and often we just had to stop and consider the best (safest) way to navigate the boulders and slippery red dirt pebbles that undermined every foothold that looked stable but wasn't.  It was hot, sweaty, dirty, exhausting work.

One would think it wise to just turn around and go back, but we passed folks who said "this is the worst of it...it gets easier and so worth it!" so we kept going.  And going.  And going.  

We finally reached the area that was on the forest floor, wet and swampy, so there had been boardwalks laid -- some decades ago.  The wood was rotted in places, broken stairways left huge gaps, navigating was a bit of challenge, but it was so much better than what we'd traversed that it felt easy.  Except where there was a huge overhanging branch above the trail.  I kindly warned Hub to duck and promptly hit the top of my own head on the damn thing!  We laughed and kept going to the junction of the next trail -- the one we actually had wanted to be on to get to the vista point.  We were hungry, tired, and surprised that we'd spent far longer on that stretch of the hike than we'd planned. That treacherous mile had taken an hour or more.  We sat down on a log and ate lunch, encouraging each other that the next stretch would be a piece of cake.  (But knowing what we were in store for on the way back.  I tried to stay in the present moment and not live in dread.)

As we sat enjoying our PBJ's and apples, the sky overhead turned a bit gray.  Then we felt the mist.  Then we felt the sprinkles.  We both got very quiet.  I was already pretty tired and Hub had already suggested we might not make it all the way to the vista point.  As the rain fell harder, he said, "I'm making a unilateral decision -- we are going back.  This is socking us in -- there won't be a view; it's getting late; and that area we have to navigate is going to become a river of slippery mud."  Truer words were never spoken.

We turned around and headed back in the rain.  The broken boardwalk was slippery wood; I never looked up from my feet concerned I'd step off the planks and into the muck.  So, when I got to the place where that branch overhang was, I didn't see it.  I ran smack into it with the top of my head at such force it knocked me off my feet backwards -- on my butt and back in the very muck I was trying so hard to avoid getting on my shoes.  I think that's the point where I gave up.  The hike back was not going to be pretty.

We ran out of boardwalk and into the rocks again but now everything was wet and muddy.  Every foothold was full of murky brown water.  Every bit of earth was soaked and had turned into slippery, famous Kauai red mud, making every step feel like I was slipping on ice.  My poles helped in some spots, but mostly I dragged myself up by grabbing roots and branches.  I held myself back from slipping down the same way.  At one point there was a wire fence along one side of the ascent and I grabbed onto that and used it to pull myself upward.  Somewhere along this stretch we missed our turn off and got lost.  Of course.  We reached the top-most point along this fence and nothing looked familiar.  Hub figured out where we were and all was well, except for being on a "point" that had steep drops on both sides and nothing but fog and drizzle to stop us.  It was a large enough piece of land not to feel precarious, but we did have to climb down from this point to where we should have turned off, so that added more descent treachery.

I think I blanked out here.  All I can report from here on out is that it was wet, muddy, slippery, steep (VERY steep) and I was soaked with rain, covered with mud, had scrapes and scratches from sliding on rocks and being stuck by brambles and twigs.  Hub was amazing at scoping out the route on each stretch -- where feet and poles and hand holds should be used.  And he was also amazing at keeping me calm and supported as best he could using his own body to stop my slides and his strong steady grip to pull me up when I went down -- falling another couple of times in the slippery mud.  I finally stopped trying to stay upright at the steepest places and just sat down and slid on my butt.  

I'm known to be a Championship whiner on hikes; at some point I get so tired and frustrated that I actually cry.  I swear a lot, or go steely silent, seething with resentment that "somebody" talked me into this.  Here's the good news.  I did not whine.  I did not cry.  I did not blame anyone.  I did panic slightly a couple of times, imagining the worst, but Hub was right there to "center me" back to present moment reality with steady encouragement.  The best thing he said was that this was among the 2-3 most challenging hikes he's ever done and he was amazed at my ability to keep going with great stamina and relative good humor.  (Only three F-words!)

And we made it.  Back in the now nearly empty parking lot we took photos of ourselves covered in mud.  I was shivering cold, soaking wet, and laughing hysterically.  We used Hub's handkerchief to wash off in a puddle the worst of the mud on our shoes and legs.  We changed into much appreciated clean, dry shirts, put the floor mat from the car on my seat to protect it from my caked-on muddy butt, and hightailed it out of there for the hour drive to our resort and a hot shower that felt like Heaven.

I will say, I found it all rather surreal: simultaneously traumatizing and a source of pride.  I do feel like I did a "thing", an endurance test I've never experienced before.  I'm not naturally athletic and I don't seek out or generally enjoy physical challenges.  And this won't change that.  But I do feel some sense of accomplishment that I did it and was relatively unscathed in the end.   We saw a sign hanging on a fence, post-hike, that described the trail as "difficult and potentially dangerous".  I wish I'd known that! 

However, when I looked up the hike on the Google Machine, others persist in saying what a terrific "moderately difficult" hike it is;  They noted it's steep in places and "you might get a little muddy" but totally great anyway.  I have to think they are far more adventuresome than I.  Also taller.  My short legs simply could not stretch into the slippery footholds worn into those rocks and I had to resort to butt sliding to prevent a head over heels tumble.  I can just hear them:  "It's just a hike!  Not a feat of death-defying bravery!"  Sure, easy for you to say. 🙄

Next week we are taking the Stand-Up Paddleboard up the Wailua River to "dock" at the shady inlet leading to a forest hike to Secret Falls.   Never did that before either.  I'll let you know how it goes...

At least, that's the view from here...©

ALOHA 2021

 

Aloha Greetings from Kauai!

Here we are into nearly our second full week on the island, with another week to go, and I'm still not totally acclimated to the "new normal".  

Last year, during the Covid Times, we didn't come of course.  We cancelled our trip and stayed locked in our house all spring, not having any idea that a whole year would pass before things started to feel even a little bit normal again.  Actually I'm convinced more and more that "normal" will be redefined for some time to come.  At any rate, Hawaii started letting visitors come back to the state but when we booked our stay in January it was with a wish rather than a guarantee.  We expected to have to cancel again.  Then came the vaccines (Hallelujia!) and Hawaii put a program in place to begin to welcome visitors if they passed a battery of physical and cognitive tests of will and patience to get the Golden Ticket in.

We had to register with Safe Hawaii online.  Then we had to schedule a particular type of Covid test (even if vaccinated) from a Hawaii-approved partner laboratory to ensure we got the results within 72 hours of flying.  (We passed dozens of not approved test sites before we got to an approved one 20 miles from our home). We had to register with the lab, then await them posting our test result (negative).  We had to pay them $175 per test, so before we got the test, we called our insurance to ensure we'd be reimbursed.  They said yes.  Then we had to fill out insurance forms and submit our request with a copy of the receipt.  We had to upload the negative result of the test to Safe Hawaii before leaving the ground in Seattle.  If the upload didn't work (ours didn't for some unknown reason; I followed the instructions to the letter!) we had to have a PDF print out of the result in hand to show at the airport.  Once we passed that hurdle we had to download a QR code on our phones at the Safe Hawaii website proving our negative Covid test status to show once we landed in Kauai and also at the car rental place, the resort, and any other place that might require seeing our test result to let us in.  Then we went to the beach. LOL

Speaking of car rentals...we had ours reserved since January and a good thing.  We have heard there are zero cars available to rent!  Last year, rental companies purged their inventory all across the US and people have taken to renting U-Hauls in some places to have something to drive! See?  Not normal.

Once here masks are required throughout Hawaii when indoors.  So we still mask up inside public spaces.  Once outside we take them off.  On, off, on, off.  Part of this, our home-away-from-home resort for 20+ years, has been sold to another company (no longer Marriott, now Royal Sonesta) but we still are Marriott time share owners, so our accommodations have not changed, but the "vibe" is different and I feel we've been shunted off to the side, but maybe that's just me resenting that we are no longer the valued guests we once were.  Hello, Ego. LOL

Also, the retail shops on the lower levels along the gardens are all gone.  My fave dress shop, Tropical Tantrum, is now the new Welcome Desk office for timeshare guests (having been evicted from the beautiful lobby now occupied by Royal Sonesta).  The jewelry store I never went in is an empty room behind dirty windows; the art gallery, car rental office, photography gallery -- all closed and empty.  There are no local craftspeople set up on the Terrace each morning.  No breakfast buffet on the Terrace either.  The two (over-priced) on-site restaurants are open only limited hours.   We don't mind so much because we grill every night but now there are only two grills for the entire resort (the third closed for social distancing) so the wait can be long.  We've learned to grill our fresh fish at 5:00 (a bit early for us) or 7:30 (in the dark), avoiding the prime dinner hour rush of long lines and people cooking huge hunks of red meat.  Ugh!

On the plus side -- no cruise ships are docking so our beach is not inundated with "boat people" or rowdy crew members several days a week.  It's a bit quieter -- no late night music from the bar down the beach or after-dark beach revelers.  The sun shines, the breezes blow, the waves crash, the night sky is awash with stars, the ocean water is warm, the pool is beautiful, our "spot" on the beach has been waiting for us every day. Hub has gotten better at riding the waves on his stand-up paddle board; I've read 4 books; hiking trails are not too crowded; our morning 4-5 mile walks are lovely and I've lost a bit more weight -- now at my lowest in decades.  (I'll write about this weight loss journey another time).   We are relaxed and content...it's truly a time of respite from responsibilities and obligations that come with the territory at home.  And a welcome celebration of traveling to another of our special places post-vaccine.

I notice that my gratitude for my life has grown deeper and more poignant since the Covid Times.  I am getting amazing clarity on what is truly important to me and my mindfulness of present moment is sharpened.  I have changed in some profound ways over the past couple of years of personal and societal challenge.  There is no room for taking anything for granted.  It's all a gift and appreciating every moment for the lessons we can learn, for the joy we can feel, for the love we can give and receive, for the effort we can make to create and preserve what is important to us is really all there is.  

I know, I know.  Easy for me to say from my perch on the lanai looking out at the beach and bay that is my view for three weeks.  Yet, we all have a view of some kind, something or someone we love, something we long for, something of beauty we appreciate now, something that provides meaning to our lives.

May we all find a "new normal" that sharpens the senses, deepens gratitude, and helps us grow in equanimity and peace.  

At least, that's the view from here...©

MOON OVER KAUAI

Hoo Boy.  I've run into a buzzsaw of dissent to my opinion of the prevalence of backside baring partial thong swimsuits here on Kauai (and everywhere beaches and pools exist, apparently.)

I posted on FB yesterday that I thought a bit of modesty might be in order.  I see younger women and barely teen young girls' bare bottoms walk by and many men's heads turn to watch.  It sort of makes my skin crawl, this objectification, this obvious sexualization in 'his' eyes of these women.

But I'm in the minority, at least from the comments I got on FB from people I trust and like, as well as comments received in person.  "It's the fashion." " It's not women who are fault, it's men."  "Once this becomes commonplace, no one will even notice anymore."   All true, I guess.

I just can't get past those male gazes and those younger women (girls, really) being the object of that gaze.  It's a good thing I didn't have daughters, I guess.  But I do have granddaughters and I'd have to follow them around with a friggin' Lucille bat* to destroy any man who looked at them that way. (Of course their decisions will be none of my business; they have parents who will sort that out with them!)

I feel like a prude.  I feel like my mom when she wouldn't let me buy a two piece swimsuit when I was 13.  I feel out of step and old-fashioned when I have traditionally been anything but.  This is definitely not the "me" I think I am, this woman calling for more modest beachwear.

At various times in my life I still ate meat, drank, smoked, did drugs, flaunted and used my sexuality for attention and validation, and swore like a sailor (sorry sailors). All we have left on that list is the swearing, and even then, toned down.  I have shed vices like viruses.  I like to think this is growth, a moving into a mature life of integrity and responsibility for myself.  Others see it as a prudish, judgmental, buzzkill decision to not have fun anymore.

I am trying to practice radical self-acceptance and radical self-compassion these days.  I like myself. I like who I am becoming.  It feels authentic.  I feel contentment within.  But when I put myself "out there" in public and try to fit in I often feel like the outsider: the one who scans the menu for paltry vegetarian options, so I eat a lot of mediocre salad; who looks for Mocktails at the bottom of the drink menu (always too sickly sweet, so I drink club soda); who says no to the apparent delights in the pot stores on every corner, "It's legal! Let's get high!"  (At least most sensible people everywhere have ditched cigarettes.) But now I have to add my "modesty" campaign to the list of "she's no fun" attributes.

It makes me sad,  how I am feeling prudish when I compare to others.  I've been told to lighten up, to not take it all so seriously, to live and let live.  I do.  I don't go around picketing or finger-wagging.  I just remain silent and do my own thing.  But it's a lot hurt-y and a little hard to be the outlier, lost and ignored in the crowd of our culture.   What I'm learning is compassion, I guess, for me and for those like me.  I'm sure I've mocked them in the past (hello, mom).  I'm sorry.

As for the rest of you, fuck it.  I gotta be me.

At least, that's the view from here...©

Photo Credit:  Some ad I found online to buy these.  (There was also an article about an Instagram page called Total Frat Move that features photos of young women in these bikinis.  Point made.)

*Lucille  -- Walking Dead reference to prove my "still cool" bonafides.

MARCH MADNESS & BALL SPORTS

Dateline Kauai:  When we arrived last week, we discovered "our" beach had been invaded by a huge number of very fit people -- very tall bikini-ed females and very 6-pack ab'ed males here for the 25th Annual Dino Beach Volleyball Tourney.  Dino, being short for dinosaur, because it's sort of a swan song event for "older" players who may have been pros, or at least very good players, at one point (Who knew?  Professional volleyball?), but who now play for fun with younger, currently pro and semi-pro stars of the sport.  Teams have to be a mix of ages, adding up to 80 years or over as I understand it.  I might have the math wrong, but you get the idea.  It's all in good fun.  There was a very mellow vibe of players, family, friends, and fans from across the U.S. gathered 'round each of the four "courts" cheering their favorite team on.  Tents with commercial logos were set up to sell stuff, vintage rock music was played, laughter and applause erupted on a regular schedule.  It was festive.

A couple days later we went on a hike along the water's edge at Shipwreck Beach and then up the cliffs towering above the water where one part of the trail skirts a championship golf course.  Another type of ball sport.  It got me thinking....

First, Disclaimer:  I am a sports fan.  I've spent most of my life cheering for a home team (Cubs, Sox, Bears, Bulls, Mariners, Sonics, Seahawks, Sounders) and for my athlete husband (even when still dating back in the day) and for my athletic sons.   So I am not here as an anti-sports prude.  I love sports.  I'm a great spectator and fan.

That said, most ball sports are rather silly when you get right down to it.  As I walked along the golf course the other day, I made a mental list of the ball-centric games I'm most familiar with, listing "silliness" from least to most:

10.  Croquet -- A sentimental choice for sure, but still a classic. My grandparents back yard; summer Sundays; all ages can play; colorful balls.  Wickets!!!  Slightly upper crust British origins that make one feel fancy.  No special clothing required -- suits to dresses to shorts to bikinis.  What's not to like?  Nothing silly about it!  Right?

9.  Baseball -- Ahhh....the Boys of Summer.  It is the most childlike of games.  You choose up teams, then put one of them in various positions in the "field" and give them a mitt to catch the ball so they don't hurt their hands.  The other team lines up and takes turns hitting a ball with a bat and then has to run to across 3 bases before reaching "home" back where they stood to bat in the first place.  The other team can stop this progress by catching  the hit ball and stepping on a base before the runner gets there and then the runner has to sit down and eat some sunflower seeds.  The big thrill is when a hitter hits the ball so far and so fast that no one can catch it and it's a "homer" and he gets to run all the way around while people go wild cheering and ordering more beer and eating another hotdog.  But there is also a lot of "down time" since it's actually very hard to hit that ball, so a lot of time the batter swings and misses or hits it a little bit, but it doesn't count, and during these times you can take a nap and not miss a thing.  Hub once pitched a no-hittter, which I am obligated to note here.  I have spent a lot of time at baseball games, from Little League to Mariner's season ticket holder, so while I admit to the silliness of it, I do love it.  Also, Ernie Banks. Also, Ken Griffey Jr.

8.  Football -- Legalized gladiators.  Big, handsome, athletic, charismatic players.  Game day is a party, state fair, march, rally, concert all rolled into one.  Rabid fans, perky cheerleaders, brats and beer.  One team has the ball and tries to get it past the goal line of the other team.  The other team tries to stop that from happening by knocking opponents to the ground.  War analogies are not off the mark.  It's rough and violent and players sometimes get seriously hurt.  Plus, the rules.  There are so many rules in this game that they have to stop after every play to sort out who broke a rule that time.  Sometimes many rules are broken at once and each team get a penalty.  It's a lot of go, stop, go, stop, stand around and wait, then go again before stopping again.  For some reason, it's the most popular sport in America, especially for those who drive big, rugged pick-up trucks.  Shamefully, I like it too.

7.  Basketball -- Hoop. Net. Ball.  Pretty easy concept. Back and forth, back and forth, trying to put the ball in the basket more times than the other team.  Rules are easy to understand though and it's played  indoors in winter, so it's cozy and warm.  The players are super tall people in great athletic condition, so sort of an exotic breed to me of the 5'3" don't-like-to-run persuasion.  Plus, two words:  Michael Jordan.  I was a super fan back in the day.  When he retired from basketball, so did I, so my fandom is dated, but I hear there are still good players in the game.  And every spring the college championship is determined with elimination tournaments called March Madness.  You pick a bracket of teams to bet on or something, which is a sport within a sport, so there's that silliness too.

6.  Soccer -- Son-Two, a huge fan, will hate me for this, but I still don't get it even after many tries.  I am obviously deficient in some appreciation gene, because I know "futball" is the most popular sport in the world.  Still, it's just lots of guys running up and down a field (in colorful outfits, granted) constantly kicking that ball around and occasional bouncing it off their heads but unable to touch it with their hands, which would make things oh so much easier!  During all this running, the time ticks away -- but not really because just when you think the game (OK, match) is blessedly over, you discover that "stoppage time" has been seemingly arbitrarily added on and they keep going!  Sometimes a player takes a dramatic dive to the ground and writhes in agony for awhile and you think they will need to be carted off the field of play, but no, suddenly they just jump up and keep going, which begs the question about acting classes being part of training.  Also, the game can end in a Nil-Nil (0-0) tie and you wonder why you were there.  For the singing I think.

5. Volleyball/Beach Volleyball -- PTSD for me on this one, since it was one of the Girls PE games we were forced to play in high school and at which I sucked (as I did at all of the games, but this one was particularly cruel).  There are servers and spikers and more than one person on a side has to touch the ball, either bouncing it up with their wrists or their fingertips (How many finger sprains?  Countless!) and then everyone switches sides and someone calls out the score so you actually have to keep track of that in your head and sometimes people are so into it they actually fall down trying to get to the ball, which, what?, who cares???  (Part of my sucking was not caring.)  Wearing a swimsuit is an advantage over the Girls PE outfit we had to wear that was something out of the 19th century, but I still see no point to the game, either indoors or out.

4.  Racketball/Squash -- Something to do at the Y.  After work.  With the guys.  Instead of civilized classes like Zumba or Yoga.

3.  Rugby -- Just an excuse for playing in the mud and getting in a scrum, which I believe has homoerotic overtones, but I could be wrong.  Still...all that pushing and shoving and touching! Plus, where's your helmet???

2. Ping Pong -- Are  you over 14 years old?  STOP PLAYING THIS GAME!  Come up out of your parents' Rec Room and get a life!

1.  Golf -- Seriously goofy game.  It's very expensive to buy all the equipment and "green fees" (admission to the course) can cost an arm and leg.  It takes half a day to play.  You grab a big club and whack a teensy ball that seems to fly off into the ether, never to be seen again until you hop in a little motorized cart to go off in search of it.  It could be anywhere -- in the weeds, the sand, the water, occasionally on the grass.  Then you whack it again and again trying to get it first near and then into a little hole in the ground.  Puhleeze.  You must have a lot of time to kill.  I understand there is drinking to be done when it's over.  (19th hole - cute.)  I say just admit to wanting to gulp an Arnold Palmer without actually having to play one of his courses.

At least, that's the view from here...©

AIRBORNE BIBLE STUDY

And so starts another Kauai vacation.  They all start the same, as is necessary, with a plane trip.  It's the part I really, really don't like.  Fear of turbulence, a little claustrophobia, a bunch of strangers in close proximity, and just general impatience with the whole process.  And that's after I'm actually on the plane.  The whole logistical nightmare of packing, making arrangements for our vacant house, getting to the airport, lugging stuff around, getting through TSA screening, waiting around at the gate...Ugh.  But yes, I am beyond fortunate to be able to take this annual tropical holiday, so grousing about it is a bit disingenuous.  I know.

I wonder, did you hear about the Boeing 737 Max 8 Lion Air crash in Indonesia last fall?  The thing started into a dive just after take off  and boom...into the ocean.  They concluded there was some pilot error issue and everyone is sorry.  Then last week the exact same thing happened with a flight in Ethiopia.  Same result.  Same sorry.  But crack investigative reporters scratched their heads and said, "Hmmm...is this a pattern?"  And an open source log of similar reports was discovered from pilots from even within the United States (lest you think you can excuse the problem by pointing fingers at  those 'foreign pilots').  Their planes also took a dive and they had to switch off the auto pilot software and pull the nose up manually.  Scary stuff; still could be pilot error due to inadequate training, but what about that software???    I leave that to the experts but it was especially unsettling to hear nonstop reporting on this story on the radio during the one hour drive to the airport while trying to get morning rush hour traffic updates around the edges of the news.

Hub and I both like aisle seats so we generally sit across the aisle from each other.  I am not a chatty flyer, since all my concentration goes into keeping my anxiety disorder under control, so the few words we say to each other can be said across the narrow aisle.  But that also means I sit next a stranger in the middle seat next to me.  This time it was the woman of a couple who were on their way to meet their adult children for a family vacation.

They were very friendly.  I saw photos of their home in Alaska and of their new grand baby and of kids on the snow-covered playground of the school where she taught.  They both had books on their laps and we talked a bit about real books vs Kindle.  The woman shared that these days even in church, people pull out their phones to read the Bible!  She was fairly scandalized about this breach in church etiquette, allowing that really those people could be looking at anything, and who would know?  But she said the preacher's wife also did this, so she seemed to feel that was some kind of exoneration.  I thought maybe the preacher's wife was onto a way to get by with a little Pinterest study during the sermon.

We bonded a bit because we both admitted to hating to fly and I noticed her husband reached over and held her hand during takeoff which I thought was very sweet.  They looked "older" in that way some people can look just like my great aunt looked from about 40-80 years old.  Ageless in a weird way.  They wore sensible shoes and vaguely outdoorsy clothing, as if they were ready to be dropped into the bush on a missionary assignment at a moment's notice.  Her short, styleless hair would not be a bother should she need to bathe in a muddy river for a year or so.  After initial pleasantries,  I put my headphones on and that pretty much shuts people up who are inclined to chat away during the trip.

About half way through the flight the pilot announced, clear as a bell, (with none of the usual static -garbled early announcement I actually want to hear, like how long is this gonna take and is it going to be a smooth flight?) that we were in for some turbulence and we should all buckle our seatbelts right away.  I never like these warnings.   My anxiety goes berserk thinking it must be really bad if they have to warn us!   Every little bump makes me wonder if this is the beginnings of the hellish ordeal sure to befall our airborne community in a can.

I glanced over at my seat mates.  She had gotten her Bible out.  Good sign or bad?  It had a well worn blue cloth dustcover.  Daily usage; well-traveled.  She also had a workbook open, the cover of which I spied:  Psalms.  There appeared to be short essay questions on each page.  She would read for a bit, ponder, and flip open the Bible.  It was the red word edition where Jesus' uttering are helpfully highlighted for ease of cutting to the Christ parts I guess.   "Verily I say unto you...."  But isn't Psalms in the Old Testament?  Hmmm... Must have been a compare and contrast open book test.

I am impressed she wrote her answers in ballpoint pen.  She was just that confident of her mad Bible verse skills.  I started to wonder if she's show-offy like that at church too....her with the old school paper page (or papyrus!) Bible.

All of this was a nice distraction while waiting for the turbulence we'd been warned about, but about 40 minutes later, with no explanation whatsoever, the seatbelt sign dinged off and we had had not one iota of turbulence.  This sort of made me worry even more...they really don't have a clue, do they?

Or maybe Jesus intervened thanks to my seat partner's studious attention to his red words.  Just glad we didn't wander into 23rd Psalm territory.  I do not like the "Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death" part...especially when I'm on an airplane.

At least, that's the view from here...©

Photo Credit:  www.pixabay.com

A LONG, STRANGE TRIP

I'm writing this on Monday from sunny Kauai.  We fly home Friday after 17 days here.  This weather map is from home.  Naturally.

This has been a strange April trip for our annual Kauai vacation.  We arrived on April 10 to clouds and "chilly" winds which continued for the first week we were here.  Torrential, record-breaking rain hit parts of the island (thankfully not so much where we are); mostly up on the North Shore around Hanalei.  Nearly 30 inches of rain in 24 hours.  Massive flooding and landslides; it was declared an official Disaster Area, with evacuations and National Guard and Red Cross presence.  Roads are still closed up there and predicted to be for another two weeks.  I love Hanalei and feel so sad and sorry for the people there.

The worst we endured was me driving us in a torrent on our way home from a visit to Kauai Coffee and Kauai Brewing southwest of where we are staying.  Traffic was backed up for miles as rivers of mud and rain flowed down hillsides and along the roadsides; a downed tree blocked one lane.

Given the inclement weather, we didn't feel like going anywhere so for several days we just hunkered down here in our long sleeves and hung out at the beach a bit and in the room a lot. Hub worked on the Men's Retreat program he's leading for our old church and I read.  And read.  And read.

Hub was also stymied from taking his new Stand Up Paddle Board out after giving it a go for the first few cloudy days.  Once the torrent hit, there was a Brown Water Alert to stay out of standing water, rivers, ponds, and ocean areas fed by rivers or streams -- as our Kalapaki Bay is.  You could see the brown water throughout the bay -- a toxic slew of runoff from pastures, overflowing cesspools and septics, toxic goo from wherever toxic goo accumulates.  YUK!  It's the first time in 20 years we haven't seen anyone, tourists or locals, in the water here.

Also, as I noted in my previous post, the pool here has been freezing (for me and others) cold.  Broken heater and no sun for solar warming.  It's improving by now, so hoping for a few days of pool time before we head home on Friday.

Hub goes for his morning walks, I come here to the Terrace or sit on our room balcony to scroll FB and write, and often go on a walk around the grounds here through the gardens and along the beach.  Then we have papaya, mango, apple bananas for breakfast and head for our beach chairs.  Hub takes the paddle board out several times throughout the day.  I read.  And read.  And read.

Here's the thing.  I'm both a bit tired of my familiar surroundings this trip, and also completely content to just stay here instead of going to other places on the island, that are also very familiar, just to be going somewhere.  It is absolutely lovely here and I have everything I need and want.  So, I'm not sure where this antsy, restless, inertia is coming from.  I'm wondering if we need to choose a different vacation next year, and then I feel sad to think we might not come back.  Ambivalence reigns within me.

But the good news is that the sun has returned!  The past two days have been spectacular and I'm back to chasing shade all day and slathering on more and more sunscreen to keep my dermatologist happy.  The breezes are gentle and refreshing and the rain comes only during the nights -- as it should.

Just the same, I'm starting to think about home and eager to get my garden planted, check on my spring blooming azaleas and rhodies, see the new views after the across the street neighbors had some trees taken down....so I checked the weather report from home and found the temps will plummet 20 degrees just as we arrive and rain will return to what has already been a very soggy spring.  I'll wish I was back here.

I'd better get crackin' on my gratitude practice.  I'm too busy wanting something other than what I have -- a sure sign of something agitating for change within me.  I wonder what's coming?

At least, that's the view from here...©

TROUBLE IN PARADISE

Hmmm....is one allowed to be melancholy in Paradise?  I don't think so, and yet...here I am.

Day Three of the annual Kauai vacation and it's yet to be sunny for more than 10 minutes at a time.  At least the mist and drizzle and showers held off today.  It was cloudy and muggy.  I had so looked forward to a respite from the Northwest gloom here -- radiant sunshine, cooling dips in the pool, gentle breezes under the palms.  Mostly it feels silly to slather on the sunscreen, pull my lounge chair under a sheltering ironwood to keep the rain mostly off me, just to read a book.  I went in the pool yesterday and the water took my breath for a minute. Not refreshing...more like frigid.  But I'm a total cool water wimp.  Get that temp up to 80 something and I'm happy.

On top of that, or perhaps because I have nothing else to distract me, I'm noticing I'm not young anymore.  I don't mind being not young.  I like being older.  But I've been gobsmacked with some realities that are unsettling.  I wrote last month about my annoyance that all aches and pains are attributed to age at a certain point in time.  I also acknowledged that the cumulative effect of one thing after another is rather tiresome -- and worrisome.

I've still got that foot thing going on.  Plantar Fasciitis.  Oddly, my heel doesn't hurt that much when I am walking, but hours later when I'm just sitting around watching the TV, my heel area goes into full freak out mode with a regular painful throb and the occasional breathtaking stab of pain as if someone has taken a shiv to my foot.  Yowl!  Last night I resorted to extra meds just so I could sleep.

Hub is beyond frustrated with my non-compliance around his prescription of what seems to me to be excessive amounts of Aleve and Tylenol, but which he assures me is the therapeutic dose.  Maybe so, but I'm convinced I'll have kidney failure by morning with all that in my system.  This is an ongoing problem for us.  I know he's a doctor; I know he knows what he's talking about.  I love when he can diagnose and give advice to our friends.  I'm proud of him and his knowledge.  But when it comes to me, I just see that 17 year old brainiac quarterback I dated in high school who mostly was trying to, well, you know...."get to know me better".

But he is a real doc and today when I showed  him a "weird thing going on" with my range of motion in my left leg, he actually grew concerned, did a quick exam and declared I should get a hip x-ray.  WTH?  I don't know what to make of that, but sure, I guess.  Why not?  My eyes blur when I read,  my knee is crunchy, my tinnitus seems worse, my foot throbs...let's throw in some hip issue too.     THIS is the part of growing older I don't like --- the piling on of physical woes and the tiresome need to attend to it all with remedies that fix one thing while causing some malfunction elsewhere.

Also, I believe I've run out of time to be beautiful.  I see women on the beach -- in their 30's, 40's, 50's -- tanned and toned, lovely features, great hair, rockin' bods.  I try to be objective, but I know that was never me and never will be.  I was skinny once, but lily white and covered in freckles (still white and freckled and blotched and bulged).   I was heavier for awhile... and I've been creeping up there again.  I feel fine until I see myself while passing the hall of mirrors leading to the exit to the beach (cruel mirror placement),  then I get startled by how far afield my fantasy of me is from the reality.  Today as I lay back on my chaise, I thought I'd do a quick selfie.  OMG!  All I could see was jowls, double chins, and ponderous breasts!

Well, I'm sure all of this negative self-assessment will pass with the clearing of the clouds.  It's hard to look out at the slate gray skies reflected in the slate gray waters of the Pacific and not wonder if staying home fully clothed might have been the better choice.  Aloha.

At least that's the view from here...

P.S.  Upon re-reading, I get that this is a very whiny post.  Grousing about clouds in Hawaii?  Whining about an achy foot?  Jealously eyeing women and like a 16 y/o thinking I'm not as pretty?  Oh well...this blog is me, warts and all.  (NO!  I don't really have any warts!) ©

REEL LIFE AND REAL LIFE

On our Kauai vacation, I posted photos to my Facebook page almost every day.  Some people love to see others' vacation pictures (I DO!) and others do not (so "hide" me then), but I post mostly to feel not so far away from my friends and family.  I love seeing what they are up to and I assume they might feel the same about me.  I think Facebook is an interactive medium, so much so that if I'm FB friends with people who never "like", comment, or post, I unfriend them.  Why have people hanging around watching my life unfold without any commitment on their part to reciprocate or participate?

Anyway....on one post of the vacation a friend of mine said Hub and I looked like "poster kids for living the good life in retirement".  And I replied, "Remember, FB is 99% highlight reel!"  And it is. Some folks post about life's challenges, but not very often.  Most posts have a positive intention; a happy face or an educational and/or inspirational message.  Photos are usually framed to best effect and selfies can be taken over and over to get the best pose.

So, in the interest of revealing the "real" behind the "reel" let me list the ways in which the vacation was NOT the tropical perfection it might have appeared to be:

1.  Packing.  I do not like packing and I tend to pack really light.  Too light this time.  I got really sick of my clothes.  I keep notes year to year and my notes said to bring less this year, so I did. But I forgot to factor that last year we were there for 11 days and this year we stayed 16 days.  It made a difference.

2.  Flying to get to/from Hawaii.  Hate it.  Hate every single thing about it, starting with the drive to the airport.

3.  Clouds, wind, rain.  OK, it was warm even when it was cool.  You know, that stuff is relative.  I haven't had that warm breeze on bare skin feeling since last July.  But a couple days the clouds didn't lift and mist and showers and wind made for less than ideal beach weather.  In my mind I always picture blue sky, sunshine, and long, cooling dips in the pool. (Kauai is the "Garden Isle" for a reason -- it rains.)

4.  Somewhat cramped quarters.  Our timeshare is a "hotel conversion" meaning the units used to be hotel rooms.  They remodeled to include small kitchenettes with a sink, microwave, and small 'fridge, but basically it's a one-room studio apartment,  which feels smaller the more our stuff gets strewn about.  Also we have to make umpteen trips to the store for supplies due to sparse storage space.  BUT, we have an oceanfront view that is to die for.  Trade-offs.

5.  Costco trips.  I do not like grocery shopping.  Hub does most of it at home, but in Kauai it seems we combine the Costco runs with other outings so I am generally there every 2-3 days to buy more fresh fish, salads, yogurt, etc.  Our staples.  (See dearth of storage space above.)

6.  Lugging.  We could pay for valet parking and lugging assistance, but we, like 99% of guests, don't do that.  We park in the big lot and schlep our stuff from our unit to the lot (or vice verse) which my handy Fitbit tells me is 1/3 mile one-way.  This means anything we take on outings, we lug.  We lug groceries.  We lug snorkel gear.  We drag suitcases.  I tell myself "more steps!" on the daily count, but sometimes, well, I'd just like it all to be a bit more convenient, cuz it sucks to forget something in the room and have to go back.

7.  Noisy neighbors.  Generally the people here are pretty quiet.  But we had a trio of women next door to us part of the time who seemed to be on a bender of general LOUD hilarity, starting around 7 a.m.   One of them leaned over her railing one evening, drink in hand, to inform me (as I sat quietly reading on our balcony) that they left their husbands home and were here for a good time.  OK, I get that.  But not all of us have a good time at such high decibels!  With everyone having their doors open to the ocean and breeze, voices and raucous laughter carry. The walls are well insulated for sound, but we could still hear them through our adjoining wall, which is rarely the case,  so we knew they were louder than the general population.  Annoying.  The older I get the quieter I like it.

8.  People.  My introvert needs alone time.  But I didn't come to Hawaii to sit in my room.  So I have to mingle with people, observing if not actually interacting.  I already wrote about the day I saw a wife berating her husband publicly.  I also had to witness a mom repeatedly smacking her 4 year old little boy in the chest with a half-empty plastic water bottle admonishing him to "stop crying" -- the logic of which has never made sense to me, not to mention the heartbreak I felt at this scene of "discipline", which in my mind is abuse.  This kind of thing sticks with me, being the highly sensitive person I am.  (I saw lots of loving families and lovely people too.  Aloha-Spirit prevailed, mostly.)

9.  Nighttime adjustments.  Not my bed.  Not my bedroom.  I couldn't ever get totally comfortable in the bed and fought with the pillow.  I was either too hot (with door open to night air) or too cold (with AC blowing on me).  It was a bit noisy with door open (crashing waves, cars in the distance, people's voices as they walked by, roosters crowing all night long) or with door closed (AC fan starting and stopping).  The built-in nightlight in the bathroom was too bright, so I had to close the bathroom door.  The peepholes in the door seemed to create a laser light effect shining the hall light directly into my eyes as I lay in bed.  The WiFi router flashed a green light all night on the wall.  What's up with all that light???  We all have our idiosyncrasies (me = light and noise) which get amplified away from home.

10.  Homesick.  This time I actually did better than usual.  But there were a few days (the two when I was not feeling well and spent all morning in bed, especially) when I just wanted to be home in my own space.  I thought of my friends and family every day and was so thankful for texts and FB to keep me connected.  I missed my yoga studio, my coffee with friends, our family dinners, hugging my grandgirls.

So, yeah.  I realize how absolutely fortunate I am to be able to travel and to take this annual trip to Hawaii.  I appreciate it with all my heart.  But it's not perfect.  Nothing is.  Beware the highlight reel; there is real behind the camera.

At least that's the view from here...©

REVIEWING VACATION INTENTIONS

Well, the annual Kaua'i vacation for 2017 is winding down.  One of my intentions was to find sun and warmth.  I did.  And grateful every single day for it.  I read yesterday that the Puget Sound area set a new record for rain over the past 6 months,  just over 44 inches, which is more than our average annually.  So, it's not all been in my head; we've had a lot of rain at home.  During our stay here a few days were overcast; one cool and rainy all day.  It's not called the "Garden Isle" for nothing.  Sometimes it rains...and gives us the lush green garden of floral delights because of it.

Another intention was to find balance and peace about the political situation.  I made progress.  I am feeling more able to take action and then let myself rest.  I am still appalled; still angry; still sad.  But reality is reality.

I'm following Elizabeth Cronise McLaughlin on Facebook.  She does an almost daily FB Live video, deconstructing the news of the day; explaining behind-the-scenes machinations; keeping her followers focused and motivated.  Yesterday she talked about "kicking the shit out of Option B", based on a quote from Sheryl Sandberg's book, "Option B --  Facing Adversity, Building Resilience, Finding Joy", written after her husband died.   Option A (Hillary being president) is not available to us, so we need to kick the shit out of Option B -- resist this Administration's policies that are destructive and hold them accountable, and vision what we want for the future.

I'm also finding great solace in watching Rachel Maddow every night, because she's brilliant and fair and funny.  But I find it's too much to watch all the talking heads and read every news/opinion piece and watch every satire comedy show...saturation point far exceeded.  Balance and discernment.  Just say no.

I've stepped up my meditation practice too, since this trip coincided with another of the Oprah/Deepak 21 Day Meditation series.  This one is on "hope" and I have to believe this was very intentional.  They talk about finding hope in challenging times.  I guess that could be any time for any number of people, but it's definitely now for many of us too.

I wanted to feel healthy and strong and I've had mixed results there.  I've eaten healthy thanks to Hub, who has cheerfully grilled fresh fish and veggies for us every night. Hawaii's bounty of papaya, mango, and apple bananas with yogurt has nourished us each morning and complementary coffee and tea all day has kept us hydrated.  We did do a slight ice cream binge.  My vices are so few these days, I've decided I don't need to scold myself for that.

I have slacked off on my yoga practice, but we have done qigong together (wrote about that on my yoga blog, if you want to check it out:   http://circlingthemat.blogspot.com/2017/04/pushing-back-waves.html  Hub has gone for a 3.5 mile walk every morning.  I went once.  I still totally suck at discipling myself to do aerobic exercise, except in my Friday Fitness class, which is really fun.  So back to that next week!

I wanted to write and yes, the muse has been with me.  It is such a luxury to set aside all the to-do lists, commitments, appointments, schedules and just move through the day at a lazy pace, with nothing to do and nowhere to go.  When I've felt moved to write, I did.  When I wanted to sit quietly, I did.  When I wanted to read, I did.  All of this feeds my Writing Genie and she's been with me, prompting and smiling.

So, homeward bound we are and I'm ready to be in my familiar places, seeing my friends, hugging my family, planting my garden.  Hanging on to the peace and tranquility of vacation time is always the challenge.  But I have to believe a time out of the routine works some magic even when we find ourselves caught up again in the abundance of "real life".

At least, that's the view from here...©

TAKE ME TO CHURCH

Thinking about Jesus today.  I heard this song yesterday on the radio (Take Me to Church) and I love it so much.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MYSVMgRr6pw

Then, early this morning I was surprised by....church!

Hub and I woke up to a rainy Easter morning today on Kauai.  I threw on a sundress and headed to the Terrace downstairs where breakfast is served to grab our mugs of free Kauai Coffee and pick up the newspaper  -- my morning routine.   But when I stepped off the elevator I was struck by a loud "rock" band playing something Jesus-y in the Courtyard.

I peeked 'round the corner to see nearly 200 people packed onto folding chairs at an Easter Sunrise Service.  I was greeted with a huge smile and an invitation to take a seat.  I demurred, but stood in the back, rapt with attention to this spectacle.  I watched as more and more people joined, as greeters hugged and shook hands, as the childrens' choir (preschool to teenagers) sang like angels.  The guest preacher, from Seattle!, gave a pretty standard Easter message befitting the Evangelical bent of this brand of Christianity, including the altar call to those ready to surrender their lives to Jesus.  (No takers on this Easter morning, but many likely had already done that judging by hands raised in the air during song and prayer.)  The pastor hammered home the God is Great message and assured everyone that no matter the harshness of life on earth, "the last will be first in Heaven" and "Jesus is with you!  God is waiting for you!"  This elicited some Amens and raised arms in praise of the Lord.  Everyone was smiling!  Some were crying.  The music swelled.  A local pastor stepped up to invite everyone who "wants more Jesus today!" to come to a 10:00 a.m. service at a local church with lunch served afterward -- featuring his own mother's Home Cooking!

I tell ya, I get it.  The showmanship and message of love and relief from suffering is an affecting one. I thought back to my Christian upbringing at first in the friendly Methodist church of my childhood, then the more austere brand of Protestantism of my Lutheran years after marrying into a conservative Lutheran family and being expected to become one of them.  Then we swerved left and attended a Congregationalist church for awhile, before finding Unitarian Universalism.  Easter Sunday was a favorite worship experience in all of those earlier Christian denominations.  What's not to like about petticoats, patent leather shoes, and Hallelujahs?

But "Take Me to Church" (partly about the Church's punishment of homosexuality) also reminds me of the hypocrisy, the judgements, the literal (and sort of made up) interpretations of the Bible and Jesus' teachings that turned me away from the Christian church.  When a certain brand of Christianity became intertwined with political conservatism I became judge-y too.  How could two diametrically opposed worldviews exist in one entity?  Feed the poor = cut food assistance.  Welcome the stranger = close our borders.   Care for the sick and vulnerable = gut healthcare.  Serve the poor = subsidize billion dollar corporations.

But this is Easter.  It is a time to reflect on a New Beginning.  Jesus was a new beginning in his time and I take his example as the meaning of this day.  Appropriated from the Pagan rituals of renewal and regrowth, fertility and abundance, Jesus is said to have risen from the dead.  (Maybe.  Jon Snow did it...Game of Thrones reference for the uninitiated; also a handsome guy, as all movie Jesus' are as well.)  If he did it then, I truly wish he'd come on back again now and take a look at what is being said and done in his name.  (I'd like his return to NOT be accompanied by that whole Rapture thing...messy.)  Maybe we'd find out this is exactly what he intended.  Or maybe he'd lead the Resistance, as he did in his day.

After Christian Church I joined Hub in practicing Qigong on the beach (Ancient Chinese ); I did today's Oprah/Deepak recorded meditation on Hope (Vedic tradition); I chanted along with my favorite Kirtan artists: Krishna Das, Jai Uttal, Gina Sala (Tantric, Vedic, Hindu); I watched Valerie Kaur on YouTube (Sihk).

And  I will hold the lessons of the Fierce and Gentle Jesus I believe he was, and try to be more like that.  My "religion" is eclectic and curious, finding the common Capital "L" Love (thanks for that, Gina) in each practice.  With this Love as guide,  I renew my urge to find the courage to resist wrongs,  to find gratitude in every day, to see the Divine in all, and to sing Hallelujah! for this gift of life.  May we all RISE UP in Love in service to the greater good.  Amen.

At least, that's the view from here.... ©

Photo Credit: A painting by R. (Richard) Hook

KAUAI PEOPLE-WATCHING, GRATITUDE, RE-SET

We're baaaack.  Our annual Kauai vacation.  Home sweet, warm, sunny, beautiful home.  I haven't looked back at old posts, but I'm sure I've posted a photo like this before.  I never get over how beautiful it is.

I'm sitting on Aupaka Terrace, where coffee and "grab and go" (ridiculously overpriced) breakfast is served, overlooking the pool and beach.  Families on spring break pass by loaded down with pool toys, snorkel gear, backpacks, and towels.  Retired folk amble along often gathering in groups at large tables sharing coffee and conversation, no particular place they need or want to be but right here.  Company employees (this week a group from Google!), dressed in Aloha shirts and sundresses, smile and chat with cell phones in their hands and notebooks tucked under their arms.  Every single head swivels towards this view.  How can we not look and feel so incredibly grateful for our good fortune?

OOOPPPPS!  Not everyone is feeling grateful.  There is a family of four (husband, wife, two middle school-ish aged kiddos) sitting near me and the wife is having an absolute hissy fit!  Teeth clenched, arms waving, voice raised (but I can't make out the words) aiming wrath at her husband who sits slumped, taking it in silence, even when she moves in about 6 inches from his face with a final diatribe.  The daughter sits still as stone, staring outward, the son hunches over a crossword puzzle, not looking up. They've obviously seen this all before.  Such scenes of family strife always make me sad.  My empath goes into hyper-mode and I want to walk over there and save everyone.  But I sit here typing away, trying to tamp down my God Complex.  I can't save them.  Mom and daughter have walked away.  Dad and son sit silently, reading and writing, not talking, not looking up.  And it's only 9:30 a.m.  Long day ahead, methinks.

Hub is out for his morning walk.  I always have good intentions of joining him, but this terrace calls me.  I love the people watching (even if sometimes I have to witness what I just did) and I love the pool view and I love the proximity to the coffee bar and I love that WiFi that allows me to open my computer and scroll through my emails, my FB newsfeed, and my blog.  When he returns we'll head back up to our condo unit for breakfast, then to our chairs near the beach where we'll read, do the NYT crossword, wander to the pool to cool off or hop in the surf (more Hub's thing than mine if there are some good boogie boarding waves).  We may go up again later for lunch, then back down for more of the same until about 5:00 when we pack it in for the day; time to shower, prepare our fish for grilling, eat dinner and switch on the TV or open another book until we get sleepy.  It's a rough life.

Sometimes, even though I love it here, I am ambivalent about coming.  I have to endure flying for one thing, which I've well-documented previously how much I hate.  This time we fought, according to the flight crew, the strongest headwinds they'd ever experienced causing our flight to take nearly 7 hours from Seattle, some of it in "choppy" skies.  I tried not to think about that deep blue enormous Pacific Ocean below us.  I took extra Dramamine, so I was in a drug-induced state of "calm" mostly but still had to meditate and breathe my way out of panic a couple of times.  Also a young couple with a 20 month old son were my seat mates.  In fact the whole plane seemed to be full of toddlers.  Always such happy fliers, they. HaHa

But this time I wasn't ambivalent; I was eager to be here.  Our NW winter/spring has been an interminable marathon of gray skies and rain.  I was starting to wonder if the sun still shone.  (It does!)  Plus, the political landscape since November has kept me under a dark emotional cloud too.  I felt I needed this respite as a reset.  My intention is to find my center again; to get focused, balanced, and reinvigorated about life.  I'll keep you posted.

OMG.  Dad and son just got up from their chairs, exchanged a few words, and Dad reached over and pulled his son (a gangly 14 y/o, I'd say) toward him and gave him a kiss on the side of his head, which I thought was a particularly sweet gesture, given and received between males in public.   The boy smiled and they walked away together.  Saving each other, without me.

At least, that's the view from here....©

BARE IT ALL

"A norm is a guideline or an expectation for behavior. Each society makes up its own rules for behavior and decides when those rules have been violated and what to do about it. Norms change constantly."

This is the definition I got when I Googled "social norms". I was curious because I'm spending a lot of time at the pool here in Kauai. I'm pondering the incongruity of all the time spent shopping for attractive outfits, looking this way and that in front of mirrors, making sure all the bulges are tamed and everything fits to maximum flattering effect, versus, well, baring it all in public just because there is a swimming pool in the vicinity.
In olden days, these were the beach fashions:

These days this is more the ideal:

Of course, not everyone wears a bikini, thankfully!  Some look great in one.  But some, well,  do not.  It's a rarity to find anyone who is without bulge, flaw, flab or sag and a bikini accentuates the less than positive.

Still, I'm all for embracing a positive body image and I love the freedom some folks have to let it all hang out (literally).  I just wonder exactly when we collectively decided that revealing so much skin, more than my doctor has asked to see for my last two physical exams, is socially acceptable.   

A modicum of modesty and good taste seems to prevail in our "normal" day-to-day interactions, but at the pool, anything goes!!!  Cellulite, varicose veins, scars, tattoos, butt cracks, woolly back hair, enormous beer bellies, scrotums nestled in their Speedo nests, breasts threatening to break free of the strip of cloth holding them hostage -- it's all OK!  It's all on display!  

I'm not a prude and I don't really care so much about how much people decide to reveal.  I really do think, since this is an agreed-upon social norm, that everyone should show up at the pool and feel comfortable regardless of body size or shape or condition.  I guess I'm just curious.  Is everyone really as comfortable as they appear?  I wear a pretty modest black one-piece suit and I still look in the mirror and think, "Hmmm, where are my leggings?"  

At least, that's the (sometimes startling) view from here...©