The Rose--How We Forget
22 April 2015 | Naigani Island, Lomaviti, Fiji
Dear Friends and Family,
21 April 2015 Naiganithe person, place or thing which makes everything fit, everything complete and suitable
How could I forget how a thousand tiny fish shimmer in the sunlight as they jump from the water all as one? How could I forget the way a long john half beak fish tail-walks across the waves unbelievable distances while kind of looking back over his shoulder at me even though he doesn't have any shoulders? How could I forget the sound of the gusty breeze sending wind waves leap frogging counter to the current inside the reef like the pattering hooves of a hundred prancing ponies stampeding right at me? How could it escape me, the deepest darkness of a new moon night on the dark water with the gleam of countless stars like pinpricks in the black fabric of heaven the only light? And how could I ever forget the sound of the wind howling through that darkness breathing like the power of God?
This magnificence, this awe inspiring perfection of nature is woven into my every fiber -- and yet every time I leave the sea, I forget. Not completely of course but these things are not then at the forefront of my consciousness. They have changed who I am. The lapping waves on the shore are like a mother's heartbeat to my deepest being. They leave their imprint. But still I forget. ..until a sound or a smell or a feeling triggers it, and the memories come rushing back and I feel suddenly as though I have stepped into a dream more real than everyday life. Some say we must forget so that we can live on-that we would never learn to walk if we couldn't let go of all the times we fell down. But do we forget? Or do we merely learn not to remember all the time? And then perhaps that becomes forgetting how to remember rather than all together forgetting. I think we know from whence we came and to where we return and all that happens in between but just not all at the same time. Sometimes we must fall asleep in order to remember. I just recovered from a three day flu and while I was sick I couldn't remember what it was like to want to do something or feel antsy or bored or even have thoughts that needed so much to be said. I only wanted to be still. And now I am well and I cannot quite remember what that was like because now I once again have so much I want to do and share and I have to work hard to make myself still. And now that the sea has stormed in and once again taken hold of my being, the mountains of my land home are eclipsed and I almost can't recall what that was like to hike in the sparkling snow where the wind roars through the tree tops and massive stones bear silent witness.
Today was a day of remembering. It was a day of picking our way through reefs. It was a delectable day of too much sun and wind and salt spray. It was that moment of finding a new place and exploring its white sand beach and bommies and fringing reef. The birds calling and a rooster crowing and the wind whispering ancient secrets to the palm leaves and big belled purple jellies drifting by┬...a sheer rock face shrouded by vines giving way beneath to clear turquoise water┬... It was all new and yet all familiar. And tonight is that dark new moon and that swooping wind and The Southern Cross and Orion and the Big Dipper and the beginning of Scorpio rising hugely-such big players in the sky all circling round┬...such old friends. The Rose cradles us in the arms of the Sea and all is well as we make our way east. Moce (goodnight).
Pat and John s/v The Rose Naigani Island, Lomaviti, Fiji