I looked over at Josh again. A light wind blew his blond hair away from his face. He lifted his face toward it and gave a contented sigh.
“Did you grow up on the island?” I asked, realizing how little I knew about him.
“Nope. I am not from here,” he replied. “I was born and raised in Detroit.”
I didn’t even try to hide my surprise. “Detroit? Really? So how did you end up here?” I scooped my arms around my knees, curious and eager to hear his story.
A modest smile flashed across his face. He seemed more comfortable talking about me than about himself. It was endearing and very different from most men I had met.
“It’s kind of a long story,” Josh warned.
I smiled. “I have all the time in the world.”
He nodded and laughed softly.
“My dad was an accountant, working for one of the car companies,” he began. His eyes were distant, as if he were searching for the memories.
“Every morning he got up at 5:30 a.m. and left for work at 6:30 a.m. He came home at 6:30 p.m. Then he ate his dinner, watched TV, complained about everything that was on it, went to bed, got up, and the next day looked exactly the same. What I remember about him was his miserable face, morning and night, and his mantra, the lone sentence that he repeated constantly: ‘I can’t wait till I retire.’” Josh had a painful expression on his face, as if he could feel his father’s despair.
“First time I remember hearing him say that he longed for retirement, he was in his mid-forties and I had just turned twelve. That was when I started thinking that if this was what life was about, I couldn’t see much point in it. My mom worked as a cashier in the local supermarket four days a week. She didn’t hate her job as much as my dad did, or at least she didn’t complain as much about it, but she didn’t like it, either.”
I shook my head slowly. “So many people feel like that,” I said as an afterthought, maybe more to myself than to him.
Josh said, “‘We work to pay the bills. Period,’ was what Mom told me when I asked her why she and dad were so unhappy about their jobs.”
After a brief pause to gather his thoughts, he continued. “Pretty soon I started noticing that it wasn’t only my parents; most grown-ups had the same dull expression on their faces, as if all life had been sucked out of them.”
I recognized what he was talking about. “Is that why you chose to leave?” I asked.
Josh nodded. “I knew I didn’t want to live my life like them, but I had no idea what the alternative could look like.”
He paused again for a moment. I could almost feel his frustration as he spoke. It was strange to think about Josh as a young, frustrated boy in Detroit.
“Then one day, when I was fifteen, I was on my way back from school, and I passed the local movie theater.”
I smiled. I wondered whether his cinema was anything like the one Mom and I used to go to.
“I saw they were showing a movie called In God’s Hands. The movie was about three surfers who traveled the world looking for the perfect wave. They discovered some of the most amazing places on earth, and Hawaii was one of them.”
Josh was quiet for a little while, resting his eyes on the young men and a dark-haired woman who just had joined her friends in the waves. They looked like they were having so much fun, howling and laughing every time one of them caught a big wave.
I waited patiently for Josh to continue. I was eager to hear more.
“I saved my lunch money for a week to afford a ticket to a matinee,” he continued. “The movie transported me to a world as different from mine as you could possibly get. I had never seen the ocean, much less surfed on it, but ten minutes into the movie, I knew that I had found my calling and that there was nothing else in the world I wanted to do.”
“Wow,” I said. “I love that the movie was just right there waiting for you.”
Josh nodded. “It was pretty incredible. It gave me something to work toward, something to dream about and hope for.”
“What did your folks say about your career plans?”
“I didn’t tell my parents. I knew they wouldn’t approve. Instead, during my remaining high school years, I took every job I could get and saved all the money I earned, with only one goal in mind: to get myself a one-way ticket to Hawaii and become a professional surfer.”
Josh fell quiet and looked out over the ocean again.
“That’s amazing, Josh. And you did it!”
How I admired that young, determined boy who wouldn’t let anything, or anyone, stop him from pursuing his dream.
“So, how did you parents react when you left?” I asked.
Josh shook his head and laughed dryly.
“My parents took my choice as a personal insult to their way of life. They called me an ungrateful son and said I was bringing shame on the family. They were worried about what the neighbors would think.”
I could hear in his voice that the memories stirred a lot of emotions.
“But regardless of their resistance, I knew I had to leave. I would have suffocated and died a slow death had I stayed. The life they had chosen for themselves was not for me, and I refused to let them or anyone else define what kind of life I should live.”
“Did you ever return home?”
Josh shook his head. “On my way out, they told me I needn’t come back. So, I never did. I tried calling and sent them postcards and invited them to come stay with me over Christmas every year, but they never responded.”
“Family. It’s a tricky thing,” I said. I thought about my own dad, with whom I didn’t exactly have the warmest relationship. Ever since my mom died, I felt I had done everything I could to please and impress him, but he never seemed to approve of anything I did. I felt ridiculous for still trying, for still caring.
“It’s not an easy thing to stand up to your own parents,” I said, as much to myself as to Josh.
“Standing up for ourselves, in whatever situation we find ourselves, is not an easy feat,” Josh replied.
“When I was about sixteen years old, I came across an article by e. e. cummings called ‘A Poet’s Advice to Students,’” Josh continued. “The article stressed the importance of being true to yourself and resisting becoming the person everyone else wanted you to be. Reading those words gave me the strength and courage to follow my own dream and not the path of my parents, which I knew would never make me happy. So that is what I did. And that is why I am here.”
I had noticed the strained expression on his face when he talked about his old life, but as he leaned back in the sand and turned his face toward the sun, I had no doubt that he was a happy man now.
“That’s an amazing story, Josh,” I said. “I’m really glad you chose to follow your dream, but I understand it couldn’t have been easy.”
Josh nodded. “The best things in life usually aren’t,” he said and smiled warmly to me, then looked back out over the ocean.
We watched one of the surfers catch a huge wave and heard the others howl and cheer her on. We laughed and clapped our hands as she made a pirouette inside the wave, then elegantly continued surfing it.
“Incredible!” I laughed and shook my head.
Josh nodded and grinned. “That girl will go far.”
Then we were quiet again.
I took a deep breath and let the ocean air fill my lungs. Suddenly I was overcome by an emotion that only could be described as … happiness! What a funny feeling.
Josh smiled and studied me.
I sighed. “It’s just so wonderful to be here.”
Josh was still smiling, but the seriousness in his eyes reminded me of Mom’s, whenever she wanted me to understand something important.
“You deserve to be happy, Maya,” he said, holding my gaze.
I nodded. Something hurt deep in my chest.
I looked out at the water. A father was playing with his little daughter in the waves. Their happy, cheering voices filled the air. Farther out, I could see a
boat in the horizon, slowly making its way to its destination.
After a while I looked back at Josh.
“How did you do it, Josh? How did you break free from your old life? All the patterns, expectations, judgment, self-doubt?”
Josh smiled. “I just decided to ignore the boxes.”
He noticed the puzzled expression on my face and continued.
“Most people live their entire lives inside a box, without even realizing it. They don’t understand that they could be so much more and live a much richer life, had they only dared to step outside of their boxes. People think the boxes they live in are made of brick or stone, but, in fact, they are only made up of air. They think all the limitations surrounding them are real, while in truth they are only illusions.”
I was silent for a while, trying to understand what he had just said.
“So, if limitations are illusions, they actually don’t exist. Which means we can just go ahead and do whatever we want to, because what we think stops us isn’t really there?” I asked.
I meant to challenge his thinking, but Josh only smiled and nodded.
“Yes, that’s exactly it. But very few get this,” he said eagerly.
I had to admit, I struggled a bit with following him.
“You see Maya, most people don’t understand their full potential. Just like the caterpillar doesn’t understand it can become a butterfly.”
I reflected on what he was saying. In some strange way it actually made sense.
“So, what’s stopping us?” I asked after a while.
“Fear is,” Josh replied. “Fear of failure, fear of uncertainty. Fear of being ridiculed, fear of not belonging, of not being good enough. Fear of being too good. You name it.”
I nodded. I was very familiar with all of these fears.
“You see, fear is the opposite of love and joy,” Josh explained. “Fear is what keeps us in those boxes and makes us live our lives as caterpillars. When we let fear be our master, we cannot be free and happy as the butterfly. But when we choose to trust the journey and embrace love and joy, we are free to fly.”
A gentle breeze came and took the pink flower the shopkeeper had placed behind my ear. We both watched as it blew along and landed softly on the waves.
“So, you leaving Detroit for a surfer life in Hawaii, that must have been a really scary thing,” I said after a while. “And you did it anyway.”
“Yes, it was scary. But for me, staying in the box, living the life of my parents, that was just as scary as diving into the unknown. So, since I was scared anyway, I decided to go for the one that most likely would lead to the kind of life I wanted for myself.”
“You were such a brave kid,” I said. I realized I had a lot to learn from young Josh.
“Maybe I sound braver than I was,” Josh replied. “I wanted to escape the life laid before me as much as I wanted to pursue the dream ahead of me.”
I nodded. “In a way you were lucky, because you actually had a dream. You knew what you wanted to do. What about those of us who haven’t found our dream yet?”
Josh leaned forward and looked me in the eyes. If I hadn’t had sunglasses on, I might have drowned in his crystal blue eyes.
“Don’t worry, Maya, you’ll find your dream too. Just give it some time. Don’t overthink it. Finding your dream is a bit like chasing butterflies. If you run after it, it will fly away. But if you sit still, it just might land on you.”
And as if on cue, the orange butterfly came fluttering back. It gently circled around us and landed softly in my lap.
“Now, if that isn’t a sign, I don’t know what is,” Josh laughed.
In the water, a child laughed. The butterfly lifted, danced around our heads, and then continued to new adventures. The little girl out in the water screamed joyfully when the big waves came, and her dad lifted her high up in the air.
“How wonderful to be a happy, innocent child,” I said.
Josh nodded.
“If I had children, I would do everything I could to keep them that way,” he said. “And when they grew up, I’d encourage them to go out in the world and do whatever makes them happy. To live their lives to the fullest.”
“Wow, those would be some lucky kids,” I said. “But wouldn’t you also want to prepare them for the brutal realities of life?”
Josh shook his head.
“I believe what you send out is what you attract. If you believe that the world is a mean and unfriendly place, that is probably what you will experience. If you choose to believe the world is a good and friendly place, that is what you will find. I would teach my children to always look for the good in others.”
“Do you always look for the good in others?”
“Yes. And that is why I always find it.”
I shook my head and laughed. “You are a remarkable man, Josh.”
“There, look. You did it, too! You just found the good in me! Wow, you are such a fast learner, Maya!”
We both laughed.
I could have stayed on that beach with Josh forever, but I realized it was getting late. I had an appointment with the landlady of the house I was renting.
“The woman who is renting me a beach house told me to meet her around sunset. I don’t even know when that is.”
Josh laughed. “That’s the island style. We orient ourselves after the sun instead of the actual time. I haven’t owned a watch in years.”
“What about a cell phone?”
“Don’t need one,” he said.
We stood up, and Josh walked me back to the car.
“So how can I get in touch with you? For some more life wisdom, I mean.” I didn’t want to come on too strong or insinuate anything.
“When you want to find me, you will,” he winked.
“OK,” I laughed. This whole island style would take some getting used to.
“Hey, can I give you a ride somewhere?” I asked when we got to the parking lot. I noticed there were no other cars but mine there.
“Thanks for asking, but that’s not necessary. I live just across the street.”
“Ah, lucky you,” I smiled as I looked over at the other side of the road. There were a number of small pastel-colored houses to the left of the cemetary. “Great view.”
“You bet!”
A soft breeze came and blew my hair away from my face. I looked over at Josh. He had closed his eyes and lifted his face to the wind.
“Do you feel it, Maya?” he asked. “The winds of change?” He opened his eyes and smiled at me. “I think great things are about to happen.”
I smiled back at him. “I think they have already started.”
I climbed into the Jeep and started the engine.
“Thank you so much, Josh. For everything.”
“Thank you, Maya,” he said, and smiled warmly. “Go fly, butterfly girl.”
I smiled, waved him goodbye, and pulled out of the lot. Back on the highway, I waved a last goodbye, but Josh was already gone.
I turned on the radio and stepped on the gas. And would you believe it? “Knee Deep” was playing again. I turned up the radio and cheerfully sang along.
Knee deep, indeed!
THE BEACH HOUSE
The house I had rented was an elevated plantation-style beach house with a big lawn, surrounded by lush and colorful bushes and two tall palm trees with a hammock hanging between them.
Inside, it had two bedrooms, a big kitchen, and a cute living room with flowery curtains, beachy furniture, lamps shaped like pineapples, and paintings of hula dancers, surfboards, and palm trees on the walls.
Big windows and a small door led out to the large wraparound veranda, or “lanai,” as the landlady called it, with an unobstructed ocean view on one side, and a view of the green mountains on the other.
The place was as different from my minimalistic Manhattan apartment as it possibly could get, and I loved it!
I couldn’t believe how lucky I had been to get this house on such short no
tice. While the landlady showed me around, she told me that the house was usually rented out six months in advance, but they had received a last-minute cancellation just a few hours before I booked it.
“Looks like you were meant to have it,” she said. “It’s also available for the next three weeks, if you decide to stay longer.”
“I’m planning to go back to New York next week,” I explained, “but thank you anyway.”
As wonderful as it all seemed, I couldn’t see myself staying any longer than a week. It was already way more time off than I’d had in years. For all I knew, I might be bored after a few days, but then I could just go home.
After the landlady had left, I unpacked the “Live with Aloha” bag with all my new clothes as well as the groceries I picked up in Hanalei, the little town I had passed on my way here.
I realized I was getting hungry. The giant pineapple I had selected with some skillful help from the man in the store looked very tempting.
“This one is as ripe and juicy as it gets,” the man had said proudly, as if he had picked it from the tree himself. Come to think of it, maybe he had.
I found a knife in one of the drawers and cut some slices. As I did, dark yellow juice seeped out onto the counter. I tried a slice. Oh my. The man hadn’t exaggerated. It was by far the sweetest and juiciest pineapple I had eaten in my entire life.
I sliced a few more pieces of pineapple and some bread and cheese, poured myself a glass of Chardonnay, and went barefoot out on the veranda. A big couch with thick, flowery cushions faced the ocean. I set down my plate and glass on the wooden table and sank down in the soft cushions with a happy sigh.
As I sat there, looking at the ocean, listening to the sound of the waves, eating the juicy pineapple, and sipping my wine, it felt as if all my senses were vibrating. Like an instant injection of oxygen into every cell of my body. I had to admit that Gustav and Lisa had been right all along: this was by far the best medicine I could get. No need for those oxygen pills anymore, I smiled to myself.
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