Home

My home is a grand cathedral built upon ancient volcanic foundations. The resilient remains are fierce and soft and instilled with a serenity that only time can afford. My home is a castle carved by the wisdom of water that pours forth from the sky. And its basin is the bosom of heaving swells rolling in from unfathomable reaches of the horizon. 

The crescent shaped bay bends and warps and changes. Elemental ingredients swirl in the confines of her salty cauldron, altering the state of existence in each moment. Here, it’s as if reality itself is a cliff hanger, edging me ever closer to the point of presence, that precious place where awareness meets atmosphere. Here, in this ever-evolving arena where nature draws me so far in that my ego gets drowned out, is where I’ve found home. 

Trade winds usher in the ambrosial aromas of jasmine and plumeria and sometimes the sun-soaked resins of pine— invisible telltales of land’s latest developments. Squalls pass by as seamless as the scents. Each cleansing shower rinses away residues of the past and leaves newborn air in its wake— a continual ritual rebirth. 

The classic recipe of sun + rain conceives nearly-reliable rainbows. Sunrise casts an arching prismatic display upon the western-most ridge, while sunset frames palm frond silhouettes on the eastern shoreline. As a creation of uncontrollable forces, rainbows always take me by surprise. They’re a gift, an opportunity, an invitation to be drawn into the transformative nature of beauty. For, each time I focus my attention on nature, on something I find beautiful, my senses come alive. My cells begin to buzz. Something within me awakens. And I once again discover that point of presence where it all just makes sense. 

The materials that comprise my home are the exact same elements that constitute me. I am an elemental being. And the more aware I become of my surroundings, the more aware I become of myself. The more aware I become, the more able, capable, comfortable I become. Because I’ve come to be. 

This bay has taught me that I am so much more than the boundaries of my body. I am the wind and the water and the sun and the soil. It’s also taught me about the boundaries of my body. For, as soft and serene and crystalline as she may seem, she’s a powerful force of nature. Northwest swells swallow me up and spit me out, humbled. Hurricanes hover and strike with ruthless rainfall, turning roads into rivers and houses into swamps. Lava rocks tumble from their slippery red clay holds, depositing reminders to step mindfully. 

Cradled in the halo of this bay, I’ve never felt more comfortable. And I’ve also never felt more terrified. As I bear witness to her evolving expressions, she holds me equally accountable for my own emotions. She’s taught me that I create my own reality. That, depending on my perspective, my lens, my state of mind, I can live in heaven or I can live in hell. I can choose to melt into the silky lullaby of lapping wavelets upon the threshold of shore. Or, I can choose to bury my head in the sand and suffer the crusty repercussions. It’s all a choice. It’s a choice to listen. It’s a choice to respond. It’s a choice to walk outside, to witness a shooting star, to wish upon that star. 

This bay has taught me about choice. She’s taught me about humanness and humility and honor. She’s stripped me down to my skinnies in the surf lineup and lifted my spirits as high as the clouds could muster. She’s raised me right, like a true home. She’s held me tenderly. She’s held me firmly. She’s shaped me into who I am today.

Built upon a foundation of ancient volcanic volitions, this home has awoken me, activated me, transformed me. And, I’d be a fool to discredit the most obvious lesson she’s taught me: that change is the only constant. So, with immense gratitude, I accept that this bay being home may one day change. But, as long as I remember what she’s taught me, and access that point of presence wherever I come to be, I’ll always be home.