“Life has a way of taking you past your wants and hopes. Instead, it drops you in front of what you need.” ~Shannon L. Alder
It was supposed to be a fling, 6 months tops, so much for expectations. This brief affair readily developed into a 5 year committed relationship.
I arrived in Hawaii on a whim. I had been moving in and out of Michigan for years. Whether California, Montana, Costa Rica or Spain, I generally maxed out after 6 months and booked it back home. Regardless of the love and support I received upon each return, Michigan never felt like home, it wasn’t in my heart. Eventually I accepted my returns served merely as comfort, and an emotional commitment to the mid-west was an unlikely development.
It was time to make a permanent move.
I had not so much as visited Hawaii prior to moving. The pictures looked nice, how bad could it be? Hell, if I didn’t enjoy island life, I’d move (providing it wasn’t back to Michigan). With a meager $2,000 budget I squeezed my life’s belongings into two suitcases and booked a flight.
There is something boldly energetic yet subtlety vulnerable about this rock, a dichotomy likely sourcing from fresh flowing molten earth. Hawaii promotes wild growth and independence. It pushes boundaries. It strips and rebuilds; it tests, accepts and rejects. It encourages gratitude and nurtures simplistic abundance.
The island takes, and always gives back.
As it turns out, I had to travel half way around the world to find home. Though my haole skin ensures Hawaii is not in my blood, it is undoubtedly in my heart.
So why the change of heart?
As intoxicating as a love affair can be, sometimes there comes a point of acknowledgement that what you want may not equate to what you need. As need would have it, I’ve packed my bags and purchased my ticket. Taking a leap of faith and making moves to the east coast. Why not, the pictures look nice.