After going through all my photos yesterday, it was late afternoon and I was tired of sitting. The sun was lovely after all the rain, so I headed off to Diamond Head Beach for a walk. It was pretty crowded with surfers, but it's one of those beaches where everyone is there for the same reason. People smile, but for the most part everyone is quiet, in their own worlds enjoying the peace and inspiration of all that soothing beauty.
As I walked back up the beach, I followed in the footsteps of a lovely lady in her Jackie O sunglasses and linen cover-up with book tote in hand. There was a surfer sitting on his board at water's edge, smiling and watching the sun sink lower and tinge the clouds with pink. I paused as a man, bent low behind a good camera on a tripod set dangerously close to the surf, got the perfect shot and smiled up at me. I waited to wash my feet at the shower while a cheerful trio of young surfers washed their boards. And then the path...
There is a paved path that winds up the hill from the beach. I moved slowly past a woman whose two kids were lugging their board with effort. She fretted over their slowness, so I offered her reassurance and smiled at her boy as he looked up sheepishly. As I trod on ahead, I ended up behind a man I will never forget. Like an elegant African water carrier, he was moving gracefully up the path with his board balanced on his head. I could've passed him, but I didn't want to. He seemed to be in such a quiet zen state with his relaxed methodic steps, moving to some steady rhythm from within, like a heartbeat. It was peaceful and mesmerizing and surprisingly lovely, as the sun sank behind him and the path curved up the hill. So I stayed behind him all the way up until the path split at the top and he went one way, and I the other...
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4 comments:
You write so well, but here's the thing, sweetness.
Why didn't you stop him and say hello?! One of these days, you should take one of these opportunities. Stop hiding your light. That's all I'm gonna say. You know how I feel about THAT.
Opportunities for what? He was beautiful, radiating serenity, and I was happy to walk in the wake of his peace. I'm grateful for that. Talking would've been like shining a floodlamp into a candlelit chapel.
Perhaps I am a little too "Amelie", but that's my nature. And I'm okay with that. Why aren't you? Someday I may be blessed again, but for now I'm good. And it's dawning on me that what I really want and need in that respect is someone who accepts me for who I am, not what they assume or want me to be.
Opportunities to tell people they've touched you, by shining your light into their life. I see what you're saying about not ruining the moment, but you're not a flood lamp. You're more like a glowing scented candle. Trust me.
I'm jus' sayin' don't miss the whole point of Amelie. There's a good reason you tear up every time you watch it. Je t'adore, ma cherie ;)
Great points. I agree with both sides in their own way. I also tend to fall into Amelie mode, getting great fascination and enjoyment from "people watching." My brother is just the opposite. Whether it's checking out at the grocery store, or riding in an elevator, he will almost without fail strike up a conversation, and often with fascinating results. I think there's a middle ground for those of us in the Amelie mold. It's occasionally a good idea to force oneself to strike up a conversation, particularly when there's a magical, transcendent feel to the encounter.
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