If I Could Always Be Here

    Island State of Mind: Kohala Coast

There are various stories to tell as I peruse my journaling during my vacation in Kona, Hawai’i: parents who cannot unplug from the rest of the world; a playful, incorrigible six-year-old nephew; a second honeymoon for my brother and his wife.  I would be burying the lead if I don’t include the adventures of a single daughter traveling with her retired folks, but that’s for a future book.  For the intents and purposes of this blog, what I’m after in October is how I’ve embraced doing virtually nothing but relaxing and simply being–something a city gal like me has difficulty wrapping her arms, much less her head, around.

My effort to be more Zen

The surprise of Hawai’i is how much I love it, much the same way I feel about Paris and Italy.  But my takeaway is tinged with much less sorrow as though I would never see it again.  Only a mindset away, I can be a beach bum anytime I want to get away.  Quite frankly, I could do it for months, years even.  My trip forced me to think how I would want my life to be going forward–no more running on fumes as a result of a protracted daily grind and steady stream of stunning morons and smooth operators that have worn the soul dry.  The outflow, I hope, is the life I am meant to lead–less stress, more serenity, love, humor and fulfillment on every level in the chaos and messiness of reality–the measure of living without regrets.  Then, maybe, just maybe, when retirement eventually arrives, I won’t have to pinch myself as though in a dream to be in this paradise again.