4 8 15 16 23 42: How "The Island" Healed Me

Summer has gone really fast. This whole year has. I genuinely can still recreate every memory of walking along the shores of Dorset in August where I got a cottage by myself for a few days to relax. I had less than five pieces of clothing with me, only really needing a hiking outfit, yoga pants and a summery dress which I didn't end up wearing. I had tan lines where my hiking boots sat, I was, outside, for eight or nine hours every day, walking through the most stunning scenery, and I allowed some thoughts to go through my head that are usually safely stored away in my insanely busy life. And because I did, it's easy to see how they had changed when I did the same thing again in Hawaii this month. 

I have been haunted by a ghost for now three years. I tried a few things to exorcise this ghost, often claiming I did it. But I never did. This ghost is pretty private and not the subject of a public blog post but it was there almost every time I wrote a word in the last two years and a half. The ghost led my fingers to write many of the things I wrote over that time period without ever being named. But being haunted is scary, let me tell you. Having a ghost show up whenever you walk through a countryside by yourself, when you give your mind the chance to reflect and remember, makes you scared of the bliss that is relaxation, winding down, being alone. In Dorset, only a few months ago, that ghost was with me. In Hawaii, it finally left me alone for once.

Hawaii was the first time in a long time I was smiling when I was walking through these amazing places. There is no place I love being more than where fresh air, silence and the color green are the ghosts. I got off the plane in Hawaii smiling so much the airport staff laughed. There were many moments I just couldn't believe where I was. These things keep happening to me that blow all of my expectations, and my eyes didn't stay dry thinking about the fact I was on an island in the Pacific, like Jack, Kate and Hurley, which I never imagined I'd ever be lucky enough to visit. Never! And yet there I was, picking up a car to spend a week driving around that island, enjoying the bliss that is a mind free from my ghost.

Distance really is a thing, isn't it? I didn't think about anything but the amazing beauty I was seeing when I headed to my first dinner on the island. I was eating a fish taco, drinking a beer and listening to a local singer sing Hawaiian songs while a woman was dancing the hula and dolphins were frequenting the bay the restaurant was located at. I joked to the girl I had just met that if I went home the next day the trip would already have been worth it. When you fill your body with that much positivity, amazing things will happen. And it really, really was just the beginning of all the amazing things that would happen.

I met a guy the next day who ended up doing most of these amazing things with me the whole week long. He was an "island boy", so very different from my "city girl". We talked for hours - including about ghosts. Mine was in the back of my mind sometimes but the stunning adventures I was getting up to occupied the front of my mind. There were many moments I wanted to "freeze", trying to memorize colors, scents and sounds so I'd have an easier time remembering them. Some moments are just so good, no memory would ever be good enough. And therefore the ghost stayed away. The conversations I was having with this guy made me realize that the back of my mind is where the ghost belonged, nowhere near my attention. In a way, this guy became an exorcist: his years on that island had equipped him with the mindset I needed to be taught to leave the ghost somewhere. Somewhere else.

What was it about that island that was so healing? Sure thing, the stunning views, the fish taco, the company and the absence of any duties do a little magic. But above all, somewhere along that week, I recovered my self worth. My crazy life, so busy and full of things that are supposed to keep the ghosts at bay, was on hold without the solitude of an island making me think about all that had passed - and hurt - in the last three years. I could feel my heart rate returning to normal, my jaw relaxing at the sight of the rolling hills and my mind being utterly filled with gratitude instead of dark memory. I think, maybe it was time, I just never gave myself the chance to have this experience. I think that's what they call "processing feelings". I suppose I just allowed to let a bit of the "Mahalo" in. It's easy when you wake up to THIS every morning...