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Balance & hangin’ loose brah February 25, 2006

Posted by whatacharacter in just my blogs, life.
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One beautiful Kona afternoon I was sunning myself on some rocks, like some ugly, white haoloe iguana, listening to the surf and watching the crashing waves. Suddenly, a swimmer appeared, coming out from around the rocky point near where I lay. He immediately entered this cove, and began kicking towards the tiny crescent-shaped bit of sand which was the only spot of real beach around. I realized with some concern that this guy probably went swimming up-aways at some resort, and the wave current forced him to go with-the-flow, down-aways … but he didn’t seem tired, and if he wanted to, he could’ve risked some nasty scratches, and climbed the sharp volcanic rocks to get out of the water and up to land.

I watched intently as he positioned himself to make for the tiny “beach” unscathed. He had gotten away from the wind-driven current by getting inside the cove, but now he was right in the break, which meant if he didnt look out behind him, he’d get smacked by the 2-4 foot waves that just suddenly leap up from this area 50 feet from shore. If he tried to make the 20 yard dash to the white sand, that same wave could easily crash him into the huge black rocks lining the narrow pathway – which are so jagged it hurts just to look at them. He had to time it just right, and wait patiently, treading water. I was completely caught up in the drama. Occasionally, a series of breaking waves would pause long enough to create a nice lull, and the wash from the last wave would just surge nicely onto the beach. Of course he finally got his chance after about 5 minutes, but not before a couple of turnbacks when he wasn’t able to control himself in the churn, and after many self-induced dunks, to get under the big waves that went right over him.

The swimmer had wisely navigated himself to safety. Dripping wet he calmly nodded and smiled to a watcher on the beach, and jogged off down the road to get back to his probably worried friends at their resort somewhere.

He never panicked, or looked anything other than determined and resolute. He was in good shape and avoided any serious mistakes … only after of course, he realized he was getting washed away to Polynesia (still, what would one see if they just stay on their groomed resort beach?). I feel just like that swimmer today, as I did then. I guess it’s about keeping your head up, not going under, watching out for what’s in front and coming up from behind, and waiting for the right moment.

And stay calm … but I probably would have ended up with a million stitches after I’d scrambled up those volcanic rocks, like the ugly pale iguana I am.

Note: iguanas, like myself, are not indigenous to Hawai’i, but can occasionally be seen there.

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