...sometimes, one must be willing to loose sight of the shore in order to see the stars....
For twelve months, violent waves crashed against my personal shore. Battered, bruised, and going down for the third time, I embarked on a journey half way around the world in the hopes my path would be illuminated by the forgien sky.
I arrived road weary and numb.
Sri Lanka itself, has known violent waves; figuratively and literally. It has been an unfortunate host to civil war and tsunami. It has seen the worst of mankind and nature, and yet, the spirit of the island is peaceful and gracious.
Sri Lanka models all I aspire to be: strong yet open, friendly and respectful, beautiful yet humble, spiritual and still.
Appearing to move in opposing choreography, somehow, the dance of cars, bikes, trucks and tuk tuks is flawless. The street dogs are plentiful and passive and the smiling children seen but not heard. As one moves across the land the common thread is the warm welcoming nature of the people.
An island thriving with lush landscape and vibrant people, seemingly unaffected by the complex world around them. With monsoon season in full affect, the ocean crashed unapologetically against it's shore. The nights saw heavy sideways rain, howling wind and lightening that lit the sky. When morning came, I expected to witness the wrath of the night before. Instead, each morning I rose to a gentle breeze and the warmth of the sun upon my face.
If Sri Lanka can weather the storm and rise each day unaffected and anew, I can too.
Upon my return home, the customs official judgmentally asked: " Why Sri Lanka? No one just goes to Sri Lanka." To which I respond: "I do." Kindred spirits often don't know why they are; they just are.