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Posts Tagged ‘Self’

UnRequited Hearts

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I am completely enamored with the city.  I adore the architecture, the views of the ocean, the blush of flora and fauna, a different type of jungle. The ocean satisfies my soul and the opposing city satisfies my sense of accomplishment and learning.

My heart is torn and is rebuilt within the laughter of a three year old child. I know my decisions are bound by the greater good, though it doesn’t make the decision easier in the short term.

Life and love is transitory, but we are all in the same boat. I try to remember that compassionate acts neutralize sadness. It works, it really does. 

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Excalibur 2009

Excalibur 2009

There are some fates one cannot escape.  I once had dreams of living on a sailboat or an RV, traveling with my home.  I don’t know if I really expected it to become reality, but now it has.  I have made a conscious decision by purchasing this boat, that a part of my life will now revolve, flow, exist with the ocean.  A path forged, sown so long ago, beginning in my childhood has fruited many, many years later.  I played with the idea before, when I owned a 27 foot Catalina.  But now, I am playing with the big fishes…or whales, a 46 footer with a steel hull.  Blue water passages, here I come.

Near the mouth of the Panama Canal

Near the mouth of the Panama Canal

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Solitude

Solitude

RancheriaCoibaBirdtrip2009March 206
Roar

Roar

Star

Star

Beauty has its own heavenly language, loftier than the voices of tongues and lips. It is a timeless language, common to all humanity, a calm lake that attracts the singing rivulets to its depth and makes them silent. Only our spirits can understand beauty, or live and grow with it. It puzzles our minds; we are unable to describe it in words; it is a sensation that our eyes cannot see, derived from both the one who observes and the one who is looked upon. Real beauty is a ray which emanates from the holy of holies of the spirit, and illuminates the body, as life comes from the depths of the earth and gives color and scent to a flower.

Kahlil Gibran
Broken Wings

Beauty in the palm of my hand

Beauty in the palm of my hand

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Intent

Intent

There are no poisonous snakes on the island, or so I believe. None have been identified, yet, even by the scientists that have tried to record the diversity of animal life in this unusual area. There are boas and pythons but not too large. Beautiful blazing colors define the jungle from the canopy above to the muted colors of the ground below. I saw a small pseudo-coral snake, about width of my pinkie finger the other day, my first snake sighting. I tried to capture it. I am not afraid of snakes, I am fascinated by them. When I was a child and living with my grandparents in India, my grandfather, Dada, taught me how to pick up snakes and scorpions. We practiced on the rat snakes he found in the sugar cane fields on our farm. I loved it. Holding something wild and alive, powerful and so very smooth, almost always cool to touch. They can sense the energy around them. He also told me to be calm when trying to pick them up. Calm and confident, always have your strategy beforehand. That lesson came in very handy in the later years, when I finally learned to put strategy into action in my personal life.

I arrived here two years ago on a small lancha, boat. We rode for two hours from port, gliding above crystal waters, a few mantas jumping out of the sea. Approaching the island, the overgrown vegetation seemed to burst out from the cliffs, brilliant greens framed by various shades of beige and brown rocks. Slowly, we approached an azure blue protected cove, the service marina, my jaw agape. I placed one foot onto the shore, water lapping at my ankle and I immediately thought, “God, if I could only live here.” Intent, even if it was unintentional.

Two years later,now, I am a different person, but inherently the same. Redefined and basically renovated in order to survive, post marriage, post medical career, post, post and finally I want my environment to shape me. I am thrilled. Get over self, my expectations, and just be.

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pathway
pathways

Changes in life are inevitable. We may believe in fate, a master plan, destiny and inexorably chance. I look around me, into the lives of the many diverse people that I am in contact with right now, today, from all over the world, here on this isolated island and then it dawns on me, cluttering my over active mind, of the different paths I could have and probably should have taken and yet, this path, the one I am on now, brings me to this particular place on life’s journey. This island becomes a symbol of my growth, the tunnel into the hidden parts of self through the fresh breath of all that is vibrant and alive around me. I am awakened from a deep slumber by the haunting call of a lance tailed manakin or the grunts from a band of howler monkeys protecting their territory, croaking from the keel billed toucans. I am redefining my existence once more. My job, my successes or failures do not define me. I am not on vacation. I live here. I actually live here.

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