Morning of my departure. Flight just before dinnertime. Janine goes to work and, despite the rain, I go to the beach. I hadn't been in the water while it was raining before. As I arrived the SUPers and kite surfers retreated to their cars while I abandoned mine, stashed my keys in a tree hollow, and walked toward the water. The beach was deserted but for me and my many tumultuous thoughts. The rain added an element of chaos to the experience, confounding the senses. Eventually it became a soothing cascade which gently kissed the parts of my body that weren't immersed in the ocean. I bobbed as I had for the past six weeks, letting my body flow with the current and the swell of each wave, until the drops lessened, willing the physical experience to transfer to my mental state.Leaving was difficult. What was I going home to? Would I ever feel this way again? Traveling in this way had healed me before, helped me learn more about who I was and where I wanted to go in life. Saying goodbye to my friend was hardest, knowing she was facing life's challenges alone for a time after we had shared so much together. Who will we be when we next see one another?
Aloha.
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