1.6.15: No matter how many beautiful and intoxicating places I visit and fall in love with, and no matter how full and meaningful a life I build where I am transplanted, my heart always turns to look back toward Hawai’i.
Is home where your dearest loved ones are? Where your life’s work happens? Where the majority of your life plays out? Where your most precious memories were born? The place that nurtured you during your formative years?
What if home is where you can be the best version of yourself? The best you according to your own standards, not the world’s. The version of yourself that you sense exists deep inside you, but that you are afraid to let live because you fear it will cost you something you can’t let go.
There’s a side of me that loves creature comforts, glamour, designer things, and posh places. It’s the same side of me that loves drama and power, being in the know, and feeling like I appreciate culture displayed in museums, theaters, and concert halls. I’m the darling of capitalism: a materialistic consumer.
But there’s a side of me that knows better and deeper. It’s the side of me that knows the most important things in my life are few, close to my core, and have nothing to do with consuming materialistic goods. It’s this side that makes my heart look back toward Hawai’i, where I feel connected to the past and the future, where I hear the wind whisper in my ear, where I feel energy rising up from the soil, where I feel embraced in the rain, and where I feel like I’m touching life itself when I enter the ocean.
So I’ll keep visiting seductive places, and I’ll keep looking at pretty, shiny things, but I’ll always look back at the place where I know the best version of myself exists. I’ll keep checking the compass in my life, the beacon that keeps reminding me to stay true to the best in me.
©Living off Island, writingwahine, 2015.