If you've seen Forgetting Sarah Marshall, my trip to Hawaii was just like the beginning of Peter's, except mine held there. I did not go on to fall in love with any disenchanted locals. The only romantic interludes in my scope were between the organic papayas and bananas I threw into the blender. Together they made pudding or, as my sister likes to call it, baby food.
She drove me and the baby to the North Shore to eat at a vegetarian restaurant called Paradise Found. Clever, clever. Their Ginger Basil Quinoa Salad sounded too delicious not to try, and, as there aren't, to my knowledge, any exclusively raw restaurants on Oahu, I was definitely wanting some culinary magic. I made an exception to the raw rule, as I do from time to time, to eat the little scoop of quinoa situated upon the raw veggies and greens, and it was worth it. One of the best salads I've had. Mmm...
Then we went to Waimea Falls. I had to swim alone. I was scared. I wore the little life vest they recommended and made my way to the falling water that was more trickle than torrent. Wasn't sure what to do when I got there, maybe because it mirrored so well my lachrymose mode. Hung out by myself, conscious that I was very much alone, half-appreciating it and half-hating it, and swam back to the rocks wishing it weren't so, fully knowing such a request could not bring me peace. Only acceptance of what is can accomplish that, and I've never been one to relinquish control easily. I can sit in the bargaining phase way too long, combing my story for hope. One of the lifeguards distracted me from my month of wasted wishes by teaching me a song on ukulele.
If you've been keeping up with my blog, you know that I've been reading a lot lately in an effort to heal myself. Yesterday I finished The Voice of Knowledge by Don Miguel Ruiz. He writes, "The voice of knowledge tells us, 'It's not safe to love. I'm afraid to love because love makes me vulnerable. If I love, my heart will be broken.' So many lies. It's not the truth, but knowledge tells you, 'Of course it's true. I have a lot of experience with this. Every time I love, my heart is broken.' Well, this isn't the truth because nobody can break your heart if you love yourself. If your heart was broken in the past, you broke it with the lies you believed about love."
I broke my own heart. Again. I've always broken it by not having the discernment, courage, and self-love to walk away from the fear, selfishness, and control that others have falsely presented as love. That is why I've had to totally retreat from life to grieve and rebuild.
For now, I'm focusing on little things. Taking an inhale down into my toes. Letting the juice of the last of the summer melons drip down my chin. Standing in the shower as a flower during drought, relishing the surprise downpour. Waking early, hat on head, book in hand, to bask on the chaise. Watching the hummingbirds perch in the late afternoon, wondering where they go at night. Misting myself with Raw Gaia's Floral Face Toner, a product I would have on my list of favorite things if I had one, but thus far I've left that to Oprah. I keep the spray on my nightstand and take it everywhere I go. I thought I would stop enjoying it because it reminded me of him, of his saying how good it smelled, of nights that aren't here anymore, but I think I like it even more now because it represents the love I reserved for him expanding into a new, more authentic love for myself. One of many tiny ways I can be good to my body and spirit. Refreshed and soothed at once, I sink into an evening meditation guided by Caroline Myss and shut my eyes.
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