And Then There Was Maui

It's official: I'm a fan of a trip to the tropics in January. The thought of making this an annual tradition is extremely appealing, I'm not gonna lie. There's something really satisfying about getting a sunburn in the dead of winter. Though I probably shouldn't have taken another almost full week off of work so soon after being out for an entire week over the holidays, I justified it by viewing it as an indulgent birthday gift to myself. You only turn 30 once, right?

Rach and me at Paia Bay. We'd all gone to Paia for fish tacos and hoped to see some wind surfers in this popular spot, but the wind had picked up too much, and the choppy waves were more than anyone was willing to brave that day.

The change in the weather turned the water and sky a cool gray and green, and the strong winds made for some nice crashing waves.

Very picturesque, no?

We stayed at the Hyatt Regency in Lahaina, which is apparently the "ghetto" part of the island. The resorts are older, and according to Rachel "ugly." (Old = ugly. Good to know.) On Sunday we went out to Wailea, the not-so-ghetto part of the island to see the sunset and walk the path along the beach behind the stretch of amazing resorts lining that coast. (The Grand Wailea and the Four Seasons are pretty spectacular. Perhaps someday I'll be a guest there, and not just a trespasser. Something to wish for, anyway.)

We got there a little later than planned, so this is about all we caught of the sunset. I'll take it.

On Monday we chartered Captain Steve to take us for some snorkeling/whale watching/dolphin chasing. The snorkeling was pretty ho-hum, frankly. (Snorkeling in Belize has yet to be topped.) But the whale and dolphin sightings were unbelievable.

This was our view as we left the Maui shore to head for Lanai in search of some sea life. They don't call this the Rainbow State for nothing. (And when I say "they," I mean those who, like me, have always thought Hawaii's nickname is the Rainbow State...when it is actually the Aloha State....)

Our fearless captain, whose name was actually Dennis...not Steve, got us right up next to a whale who honored us with a full breach. It looked EXACTLY like this. Unfortunately, it happened so fast that the picture below is actually all I got....

My trigger finger wasn't quite warmed up, I guess. Or my camera likes to take its sweet time focusing before snapping a shot. Either way, I only captured the top of the head and a flipper to document one of the most incredible things I've ever witnessed.

After our one whale friend graced us with an impeccable breach, we moved on and found a competitive whale pod which, we learned, is comprised of four or five male humpback whales all competing for one female whale. (Incidentally, this ratio is the opposite of what I encounter in my life.)

At first, we watched the mammoth creatures from a distance, but they soon approached our boat (actually, it was more of a motorized raft, which means we were right next to the water—so close to the whales that it seemed we could have reached out and touched them). We got a nice, close look as they swam just under the surface of the water, showing us their backs as the moved silently past us. Kind of surreal to be so close to that many animals of this size.

Our dolphin sighting topped off an already well-worth-it adventure. We came upon a pod after our snorkel stint and they surrounded our little raft. These pictures don't at all convey how many there actually were. We had probably 25 almost within arm's reach. And we were told that for every one we could see on the surface, there were at least three more below.

Our view of Maui as we headed back from Lanai.

Turning Thirty

Remember when 30 was old? And when it meant you knew what life was all about and what your purpose was in the world? It was wise and experienced and unafraid. Nothing left to discover or learn.

As it turns out, 30 is none of these things. For me, at least, it is in every way the antithesis. It is being more unsure than ever about what life is all about and what I'm supposed to be doing in it. It is realizing how much I don't know and how much there still is to accomplish and experience.

Thankfully, the reality of 30 is far less dismal than the childish idea of it. As a kid you think that by 30 life is pretty much over when, in actuality, it has really only begun. With the anxiety that accompanies facing the unknown comes the chance to learn and do and continue moving forward. The path which cannot be seen is, by definition, a path to be discovered – an adventure to be had, a life to be lived. Bring it on. Here's to 30!

...............

I've had over a week to reflect. Admittedly, as the actual day approached, I was dreading the turning of age. On one hand I wanted to pretend 30 had not arrived, but on the other hand, I knew I would regret it if I didn't in some way commemorate this landmark of a birthday. So, I chose – maybe in an effort to dull the awareness of leaving my 20s behind me – to spend it at the spa with good friends.

A sunny day in Carlsbad meant spending the afternoon by the pool after our spa treatments.

What is it about wearing cucumbers on your eyes?

I mean, aside from the obvious aesthetic benefits....

We had a lovely, relaxing time and left – feeling refreshed, rejuvenated...and quite comfortable with 30 – just as the fog came rolling in (hence the spots in this shot–do not attempt to adjust your set).

And Speaking of Visions

"No great discovery was ever made in science except by one who lifted his nose above the grindstone of details and ventured on a more comprehensive vision." --Albert Einstein




Well said, Albert. Well said. And I like to think the same goes for discoveries in any discipline...or just in life. An excellent reminder—especially in those times when it feels as though you've become a slave to the details.

Oh My Word

Words are truly among the best things in life. I love that there is such an assortment available to anyone who speaks to duly express thoughts and feelings. It’s like standing before a vast verbal smorgasbord every time you open your mouth or take up a pen. Even better, the sheer number of existing words provides endless opportunity for exciting discoveries. There are so many obscure and unappreciated diamonds in the rough – literal gems which would surely serve to enhance our ability to communicate if only we were acquainted with them.

Sadly, I find myself getting too comfortable with a modest collection of words, continually choosing the same common language rather than actively broadening my linguistic horizons and increasing my options. Like repeatedly selecting twinkies over crème brulee because they’re cheaper and more familiar.

But few things give me more enjoyment than learning a new word. So, I was thrilled when a friend recently introduced me to this website: http://www.freerice.com/. Aside from being an ideal time waster at work, it's great for getting your mind moving and a fantastic way to learn new words – like my new favorite: logorrhea. Means excessive and often incoherent talkativeness. How great is that?! And, as if vocabulary expansion isn’t satisfying enough…for each definition you identify correctly, hungry people get free rice. Ending world hunger and dull speech all at the same time – brilliant.

Worlds Colliding

Nothing better than a Farmers Market. And I especially love this one held in the plaza directly below my office window. What a delicious (literally) juxtaposition of the corporate and the agrarian. Every Thursday, the skirt- and suit-clad professionals of Century City descend from their glass skyscrapers, briefly abandoning their virtual harvests to sample the literal fruit of someone else’s physical – and in that sense, real – labor. Each week when the Market comes, I can’t help but wonder if any of my fellow office dwellers share my secret desire to leave the desk job behind and head to the fields – to draw something out of the earth rather than out of a spreadsheet. There must be a very different sense of satisfaction connected to working the ‘cursed ground’ than of that connected to sitting day after day in a fluorescently lit great and spacious building (which, as it turns out, isn't very satisfying at all...).

Give me the sun, the smell of damp dirt, a row to hoe, the thorns and the thistles – the whole nine yards. I want to grow something for a change!





“In this state of total consumerism—which is to say a state of helpless dependence on things and services and ideas and motives that we have forgotten how to provide ourselves—all meaningful contact between ourselves and the earth is broken. A person who undertakes to grow a garden…is helping himself in a way that dignifies him and that is rich in meaning and pleasure. But he is doing something else that is more important: he is making vital contact with the soil and the weather on which his life depends. He will no longer look upon rain as an impediment of traffic or upon the sun as a holiday decoration.” --Wendell Berry

Yucca it Up

We took a trip to Joshua Tree recently. Okay, so it’s been several weeks - but I’ve been too busy to post anything….

It’s an interesting place. Not much to see except a plethora of Joshua Trees (go figure) and a decent sampling of unusual rock formations. Many of them seem almost too contrived – as if someone ("someone like maybe God," suggested Eva, as we all sat atop one of said rock formations) stacked these enormous stones in somewhat unnatural and seemingly impossible configurations just for laughs. Good work, I’d say. Very funny.

Pearls Before Breakfast

Oh my word. Love-LOVED this article. Stumbled on it randomly and was dying to share it with anyone who might appreciate it...which is one of the beautiful things about blogging. By posting something on the internet, you can share it with everyone – or possibly no one.

This appealed to so many of the things tucked away in the corners of my soul – love of music and acknowledgment of its divine attributes, appreciation for a sophisticated use of language to clearly articulate an enduring principle, and a longing for increased attention to refinery and reverence in everyday life.

It intrigues me – the thought of a master standing amidst a crowd of unsuspecting passersby who do not have ears to hear – so focused on what they think is important that they miss the eternally significant. (Why does this scenario sound so familiar?) As I read, the question came: Which of the wanderers am I? The one who is stirred enough by the 'soul speak' to pause and take note or the one who moves on unawares, too busy to be bothered? And more than that: Do I actively "seek after" the things that really are "virtuous, lovely or of good report or praiseworthy" so that I more readily recognize them, or do I merely trip over them if they happen to make their way onto my path and curse the obstruction to my narrow view?

Read it: Pearls Before Breakfast. You won't be disappointed.