photo by dulichtetcampuchia.com via googleimages |
The heat of the sun softened everything—colors, sounds, even
feelings. I was an easy almost sloppy happy in an undefined, muted-edge kind of
way, my long hair free to tangle in the sea breeze, my bare feet covered with
bits of sand, my spirit feeling more like an unattached, wind-blown cloud than
the responsible Peace Corps Volunteer that I was. I looked out across the
shallow tropical waters toward my partner who was fishing intensely with a
friend, their rods flying back and forth like whips, determined to catch what
they had never caught before. I was about to sit down in the sand when a bit of
wood caught my eye. It was small and dark and mostly square with a wad of
fishing line wrapped up around it and a fishhook on the end. I smiled to myself
as my feet led me to the end of the dock.
The water was clear and warm. I didn’t see any schools of
fish but I did see an occasional loner, a maverick who wasn’t afraid to swim
his path alone. My easy happy kept giving me new smiles—me, the maverick not
afraid to swim her own path alone. I was just like the little loner fish. That
yellow one. The blue one, too. And even the stripped one. They were all so
pretty, so rare, so exquisite in their colors and shapes and how they frolicked
in their carefree happy, an expression that might have even reminded me of my
own. Maybe I wanted to visit their world. Maybe I wanted to see the hook catch
the sparkle of the sun. Maybe I just wanted to extend my fingers with the help
of an invisible line and a tiny little, unthreatening hook. So I let it down,
that little hook, gently down into the depths of that magical, tropical sea
with the fishes, the fishes that seemed like pure joy to me.
I might have been singing a little love song. I don’t know.
I might have been daydreaming of new stories to tell. I’m not sure. But I do
know my heart was open to almost sloppy, and happy, happy to be exactly where
she was meant to be with not a need or a worry anywhere around me.
Until he bit.
I screamed.
He was the most beautiful I had ever seen.
‘Reel him in,’ my partner yelled, ‘reel him in!’
And when I couldn’t get him free any other way, that’s
exactly what we had to do.
‘Please don’t hurt him,’ I begged.
‘What did you use for bait?’ they asked.
‘Please don’t let him die,’ I pleaded.
‘Did you rattle the line or let it sit still?’ they poked.
And finally, we got him up, and after protesting that his
fate was my choice, not theirs, they agreed to set him free.
* * *
When we focus on the good things in life, on the things that
beg us like a bubble bath or a squishy chair, or maybe even a tropical beach, to stay awhile, to be embraced by
their comforting arms, we smile from a deep place. And when we smile from a
deep place, when our minds are set free because we’ve given the reins to our
hearts, we get as close as I think we’ll ever be to flying, flying free. And
when we feel as if we are flying free, as if we are soaring through even a
small blip of our day, we know, deep down, that we are where we were born to
be.
That is when the true
riches find us.
For many of us the door with ancient, priceless riches on the other side appears locked. But this one, the door to the feelings we all wish to have, is only off limits until we remember that
we have always, always, always held the key.
We just have to be where our hearts long to be and suddenly, we are flying free . . . exactly where we were born to be.
2 comments:
It is absolutely true! When we focus on the good things in life, we get more of that! It's the law of attraction. There is so much to be thankful for. Flying free is the best feeling in the world. Such an inspirational post. Thank you.
Thank you for your kind words. It is so nice to hear from kindred spirits like yourSelf! Now I get to imagine you out there flying free, living your heart-centered life --and what a gift that is! Thank you, new friend!:)
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