There is Nothing on this Island

“Do you know how long before we run out of food on this island if a disaster struck?” my taxi driver asked me as we drove down H1.

“I don’t know, two weeks?” I guess.

“That’s correct. Two weeks and then we have nothing,” he replies, the word ‘nothing’ weighs heavy.

There’s something to think about. It’s fascinating to truly think about the fact that I, along with almost a million people on Oahu and another close to half a million on the other islands, are in complete isolation.

That idea, I think, contributes to the attitude and culture of the people who live and who thrive here. There is a sense of satisfaction. There is no hint of expanded desire. No need for more. There is an all-around contentment. All we have is this and this is all we have.

But then again, what need is there for more when everyday is paradise.

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I arrived here only several weeks ago, so don’t suppose that my thoughts and ideas about Honolulu and its people are in anyway precise. I am still a stranger, still fresh. I am still savoring the process of being new. I am far from the edge of the waning excitement that comes over time. I am still absolutely full of excitement.

Every day ends on a beautiful sunset, and I am elated that after a day’s work all I need to do is step out the back door to watch another day over.

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The island is dazzling. Only a few weeks and I am hypnotized by the ocean, and the mountains. The trees and the flowers, the sun and the sky reminds me of home, the Philippines where every flower bloomed bright and every tree stood majestic. I am in my element once more.

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There is gorgeous scenery at every corner. And the backdrop to the volleyball games every Monday is a crater thousands of years old.

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The mundane, the everyday, the humdrum, the daily grind happens in a place that has a constant desire to take your breath away. IMG_3669

Often, I am asked, what brought me here. A common question as there are many who are not ‘from here.’ I quite honestly don’t have an answer. The idea was brought to me last summer, it simmered in my mind until the time came to leave Boston in late spring and here I am.

If the world crumbled tomorrow and all I have is nothing but this. I’ll gladly have nothing everyday.

 

 

 

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