yesterday, we took a staff beach trip to Mulin, a much smaller and more private resort than the internationally-acclaimed club indigo. leaving the base around 12:45, we made the thirty-minute trip south in our a/c bus (a nice refuge from the heat). even in the bus i felt just a need to be alone, and took to listening to jon mclaughlin on my ipod for the duration. it wasn't a bad need to be alone, it was a content time spent by myself.
i set up my lawn chair beneath the overcast, and quite-chilly-for-haiti, sky. beyond the crashing waves, beyond the roped swimming area, was the island-- la gonave. and further still, yet astonishingly visible, the southern arm of haiti was a faint silhouette in the distance. i spent a majority of my time finishing bergdorf blondes on audio-book (i.e. the book i started on tape in january. re: my first blog, not haiti). for as depressing as it began, it actually wound up being a delightful story; one of those you-know-you-are-nothing-like-the-characters-but-you-secretly-envy-their-crazy-high-maintenance-park-ave.-princess-lifestyle types. in a slightly more moral and less needy way.
i dozed off for a good portion of the book and had to rewind through it, but it didn't matter. i had all the time in the world and nothing to do with it. its nice, but often unfamiliar to feel that way. i watched as the waves rushed up the shoreline, losing momentum, but reaching to see just how far it could get before being drawn back to ocean, overcome by another way hoping to outrun its predecessor, too.
after lounging contently for 4 hours (which i would typically be stir crazy after so long!), i decided to walk around and take some photos of the beauty that is the haitian coastline. i sat on the jetty and watched the waves wash over the rocks at the point, crashing and splashing and then falling carelessly back to the sea.
i kept my silence all afternoon, the way a nun in a convent would. it was more of a cognizant choice; a way of life, rather than an expectation. i guess it could be comparable to people watching at the airport. there are tons of people around, none of which you talk to, but you could always. (airport convo's tend to be the best anyway!) {tangent: i love sitting in airports, alone, reflecting. i think it is often the most thought-provoking reflection time for me.} i began to realize how my personality pendulum was in full swing to introvert, in the most content way. i can't stress how much joy i have even found in acceptance of this week, in true bi-polar fashion, i actually enjoy silence. odd, i know. especially for one as wordy as i "tend" to be.
sitting there on the jetty, i pondered life's great metaphors. the waters were roped off to protect beach-go'ers from the currents and jagged coral shore. but how would you ever see the coral if you never ventured past the ropes? the white rocks beneath my feet were of all different sizes, each smoothed by the tousle of the sea. i wondered, were they all the same size once? but the weathering of the sea overtime had made some small. these small ones hurt the most as i walked across the jetty. the larger ones, still sea-smoothed, too, offered more support and less poking on the feet. i want to be a big stone, i thought. one that people can stand on for support; one that people can walk across without feeling like broken glass. but does that come from less time out in the sea? where is the sea, anyway? do my metaphors even make sense?
i made my way back to shore just in time for dinner. i didn't talk much at dinner, but not because i didn't want to. i was so very content sitting there, taking in the conversation and details of the moment. i slipped away a few times to photograph the magnificent sunset and the shoreline silhouettes left behind in its path.
i am constantly awestruck by the details God paints into the sky-- stars, the moon, rainbows, and especially sunset. its like a pack of mnm's have been left in the heat for too long, and all the colors melt together in this magnificent display of unintentional, yet intentioned beauty. with each setting sun, i can not fathom one more beautiful, one more delicately cast on the horizon by God, than the one i am witnessing in that moment. but each time, the Lord continues to show off, and captivates me into oblivion with His creative hand.
i sat at the table and watched as the sea, island, and sky became indistinguishable as they melded together into a beautiful, black abyss. i've never been struck by such beauty in darkness. i watched the families, the laughter, the genuine joy take place around me. and i sat there, satisfied. not with dinner (especially after the fiasco that was my "club sandwich"). not with company, even though they were magnificent too. not even with myself. i sat, just satisfied in the beauty of life that surrounds me, that is within me.
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