I grew up on a small island. It was all the things you would imagine and many that you wouldn’t: the colors, the poverty, and everything in between.
My memories of being on the water run deep. Those colors are still with me - my walls, photos, clothes, and particularly when I shut my eyes.
My fondest memories are with my best friend. Shadrach came into my life when I was four. We learned to sail, swim, and get sandy together. We’d push off this tiny beach in our little sailboat. He’d stand proudly on that green deck as we thumped through the chop, picking up speed.
Moving the bow a couple of degrees to the left, she’d smooth out. We effortlessly moved over that blue-green canvas with the taste of salt in our mouths. Like the prow of a Norse raider, Shadrach stood resolute while his golden hair gleamed like the island god he was.
We’d make our way out to the reef and back with regularity. I’d push it sometimes - usually when he wasn’t with me. Pulling the sheet tighter and tighter, I leaned back over the gunnel, and she’d lean out of the water. I wanted faster. I’d pull harder. More. She’d respond.
Skimming over the surface, I go too far and pull too hard. She said that’s enough. The sail hits the water, followed by me. I’d find myself under the surface. The grasses are green, the fish are fast, and the corals are a glorious ROYGBIV. A wondrous world just a few inches away.
One day, many years later and in another country, I pulled out from under our stilt house in my little red jeep. I was 16. The air was cool, and I smelled jasmine. The top was down, as it always was, and I hit play on something - ‘Pac, STP, who knows?
He was probably lying near the foot of the stairs. I hope I slowed down enough to give his hair a tussle - more grey than golden now. Maybe I didn’t. I wish I did because that day, he wandered off into the mangroves, a place he loved, and never came back.
When I close my eyes, I see him standing there smiling at me with a coconut the size of his head in his mouth - pure joy.
In this world of go, skim, scroll, there is a power in going deep - beneath the surface. Slow down and toss an anchor overboard before you capsize. Dive in.
When we take the time to understand deeply, there is so much more to life, people, and everything else.
Take care, friends. Happy diving.
Understanding Deeply