Fly, Butterfly

by Annicken R. Day

  I could have sat there for hours, listening to her and just breathing. Who knew that just sitting and breathing could feel this great?

  After a while, Ava told us to start moving, and I followed her lead. Every movement was done in a very soft and calming way. We did downward dog, sun salutations, peaceful warrior, tree pose, and child’s pose. I had seen it all demonstrated by Lisa before, but I’d never tried any of it myself.

  It was nothing like I’d expected. While I’d always thought yoga was a bit pretentious, something you already had to be super fit and smashing hot to do, no one in the class seemed to fit that description. Except Lani, but she used to be a yoga teacher back in her New York days, so she didn’t count.

  In between guiding us through the different poses, Ava spoke softly about life philosophy and how important it was to speak to ourselves like we would speak to someone we loved. She said our bodies were listening and that every thought we had, every word we said, counted. When she started talking about the two conflicting voices in everyone’s heads, I paid close attention.

  Ava called the two voices the voice of the ego and the voice of the soul.

  “Most people go through life thinking that the voice of the ego is the real voice, so every day they listen to that angry, critical voice that tells them they are not good enough, not clever enough, not good looking or successful enough, that they’re not worthy of love. The voice of the ego judges, criticizes, and shouts. But that voice is not the real you. It’s just a part that pretends to be you. You are not your ego. You are your soul, the voice that whispers and has nothing but love, compassion, and understanding for you, who only wants the best for you and who thinks you are perfect just the way you are.”

  She paused for a moment. “How many of you have, within the last thirty minutes, been thinking that you aren’t good enough at this yoga thing, worried that you look ridiculous, or maybe even been telling yourself you have more important things to do than sitting on a beach and breathing?”

  We all started laughing and almost everyone’s hands went up.

  “That’s your ego talking, my friends. You can recognize it by how it does everything it can to take the joy out of the moment you’re in.”

  I was glad to know I was not the only one struggling with the judgmental voice.

  “So, when you are standing barefoot in the sand in paradise and have every reason to be blissfully happy and enjoy the moment, the ego hurries in with all the reasons why you shouldn’t enjoy it.”

  The voice had jumped into my head a few minutes earlier, but I had firmly shut it down. I realized I was starting to get the hang of it and felt secretly proud.

  Ava continued, “The ego will never stop trying to bring you down. It will keep coming back with all the reasons you should not be happy, but every time you quiet it down by ignoring it, it will get weaker and weaker.”

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

  “It takes a lot of practice, but in time you will be able to control it, to turn down that angry voice that lives in your mind and turn up that loving voice that lives inside your heart. Listen to your heart. It always knows best.”

  Listen to my heart. Yes, I could do that. At least I wanted to try.

  I watched as Ava started to lean backward.

  “Back-bending is a great way to open your heart. Just lean back into the sand and open your heart to all the love and goodness the universe has in store for you.”

  Standing on my knees toward the ocean, I leaned back so my hands touched my heels and tilted my head backward. It wasn’t as difficult as it looked.

  I could see everything upside down, and I heard Ava’s voice from afar, “Now stretch and open those beautiful hearts of yours. Don’t hold back. Whatever comes up, just let it out. Let it pour down into the sand.”

  For a moment all sound disappeared, and I felt a tingling, itching sensation around my heart. Then it spread throughout my entire body, like soft electricity pulsating through my veins. I sat back up, feeling my throat tightening, and suddenly I started to cry.

  No one seemed to notice or mind, and Ava continued teaching while she slowly walked toward me. She put her hand on my shoulder and looked at me with warm eyes. “This is good, you are opening up, just let it all run down into the sand,” she said, and then she moved on. The urge to cry disappeared as quickly as it came, and when she invited the whole class to walk with her down to the water, I followed.

  In downward dog, with our backs toward the beach and our heads between our arms, we watched the ocean and the sky upside down.

  “Who decides what is up and what is down?” Ava asked.

  How interesting. I’d never thought about it that way before.

  “Who decides what is right and what is wrong? It is all about perspective and what kind of lenses you choose to see the world through.” She walked between us, speaking with a gentle voice. “Dr. Wayne Dyer used to say that when you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change. Keep that in mind, my friends. Things aren’t always the way they seem.”

  Toward the end of the class we were just lying in the sand, breathing, and listening to the waves. It was perfect. And when we all sat up again with our hands in prayer, agreeing to live from our hearts, bowing with a heartfelt namaste, I started crying again. What was happening to me?

  After class, Lani walked me to my car.

  “You did really well,” she said with a big smile.

  She was wearing a T-shirt that read “Hanalei Queen.” She caught me staring at it and laughed, pulling it down to straighten out the lettering.

  “Liat gave me this shirt. She gets so happy every time I wear it.”

  I had to agree with Liat. Hanalei Queen was a very fitting name for Lani.

  “I can’t believe I started crying in class,” I said when we got closer to our cars, feeling a bit embarrassed about it.

  “Many people cry the first time they do yoga,” Lani explained. “It’s a good thing. It means you’re doing it right. It’s a happiness cry, really. Your body is thanking you for stretching and freeing up all those old, stuck emotions. Don’t be surprised if you cry more later. Or get really hungry for sex. As you stretch and open up, the blood starts running through your veins, and maybe into places it hasn’t been for a while.”

  She winked at me. “First time I did yoga I was so horny afterward that I almost picked up the first man I met on the street.” She laughed.

  I laughed with her. She reminded me of Lisa.

  “OK, thanks for the warning, Lani. I’ll make sure to lock myself in the house tonight.”

  She gave me a hug before she climbed into her pickup truck.

  “See you at the fireside chat on Thursday?” she asked out her window.

  “Definitely!”

  “Great! We start at sunset. See you then!”

  On the rear bumper of her truck there was a big sticker that read, “Life’s a beach.”

  It sure is, I thought.

  ANOTHER KIND OF DREAM

  That night I had a sex dream, which was something I hadn’t had in a very long time. In fact, I had started wondering whether I even had it in me anymore, if maybe I was done with sex forever.

  Once upon a time I thought that not wanting to have sex must be really sad. But that was before I was nearly raped by my previous boss. Since then, I had been so shut off that neither my body nor my mind seemed to remember what was so great about it.

  In the dream I was lying on the beach right after sunset. The sky was pink and orange, the ocean silvery blue. I was all alone. The sand felt like velvet. The water was soft and warm. I was lying on my back in the sand with my eyes closed and my legs in the water.

  The soft waves were touching my toes and feet and the lower parts of my legs. The way the water softly caressed my skin felt soft, loving, and sensual, like it was kissing and carefully licking my legs. The water moved a little bit farther up with every wave.

  Every time the waves recede
d, they returned a little bit firmer and went farther up my legs. I was starting to shiver, feeling how I wanted the waves to go even higher up. Breathing a little bit faster, I felt a tingling in my body, in my breasts, and between my legs.

  I was starting to feel impatient, so I slid my body down, closer to the water, and opened my legs a little bit more for every wave that came, feeling more and more aroused.

  Then I heard it: the ocean collecting all its power. As I opened my legs wide open, a big wave hit right between my legs, and riding on a giant wave of ecstasy, seeing the stars and universe exploding, I screamed out loud.

  My own scream woke me up. Shocked by the vivid dream and the emotions it unleashed, I just lay there for a while, staring at the pineapple-shaped fan in the ceiling, going round and round.

  I could feel something building up inside, big waves of emotions surging through me. I didn’t know where they came from or what they were, I just knew they needed to get out.

  And for the first time, for as long as I could remember, I decided to let them.

  It started as a careful sob that quickly grew into a cry. And before I knew it, I was roaring with fury, bawling with hurt, and weeping like a child—sad, frightened, and lost.

  I continued crying until there was no more crying left in me. And when I was empty, I crawled back under the sheets and fell into a dreamless sleep.

  I woke up hours later, bathing in sweat. I slid out of the bed, walked into the bathroom, and turned on the shower. As I was waiting for the water to warm up, I turned around and studied my naked body in the mirror. I realized I hadn’t looked at myself in a long time.

  I touched my hips softly with my hands, then moved them over my stomach and my breasts. It felt strange touching myself, like I was touching someone else’s body. But the more I touched it, the more I recognized it. My breasts were fuller than they used to be. And my hips and belly were rounder than when I was in my twenties and thirties. But the more I looked at myself, the more beauty I recognized. I was a woman. I looked like a woman. But for a long time, I hadn’t felt like one.

  As the bathroom filled with the warm humidity from the running water, I stepped into the shower and let the water caress my body while I continued to run my hands over it. I knew I had ignored my body for such a long time, but as I stood there, naked and wet, soft and warm, it felt like it was coming back to me. But then I realized: it wasn’t my body coming back to me; it was me coming back to my body.

  After my shower, I put on my swimsuit and walked barefoot over the lawn. The grass was covered with morning dew. I couldn’t wait to just sit on the beach and breathe, like Ava had taught me in yoga class yesterday. Fresh oxygen, ocean air, peace and quiet was exactly what my mind and body wanted and needed this morning.

  And I intended to oblige …

  CHILL BEACH BABE

  The sand was cool, almost wet. The ocean was still.

  I sat down in lotus position, closed my eyes, and did what I had learned: Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in loving thoughts. Breathe out judgment and criticism. It felt good. I felt a wave of calmness spread through my body and a little tingle at my crown. It must be all that oxygen pouring into my body.

  Hello breathing, hello yoga. Where have you been my entire life? I couldn’t believe how well I was doing with this whole chilling thing. Lisa wouldn’t have believed her eyes, and I think even Josh would have been proud of me.

  I ignored the familiar, critical voice that told me I probably looked more like a pink walrus than a yogi. “I’m not listening to you,” I said and continued breathing—and lo and behold, the voice disappeared.

  The sound of the waves and the sight of the ocean washed away all unwanted thoughts, made me feel like I was one with the elements and that nothing in the world could disturb my peace of mind.

  I closed my eyes for a new, deep, peaceful breath in, when I suddenly heard someone shouting. The next thing I knew I was attacked by a large, furry beast from behind!

  I screamed and instantly jumped to my feet. A big white hairy dog was jumping eagerly around me with an enormous tongue hanging out of his drooling mouth. I noticed a dark-haired man walking toward us.

  “Doggy, doggy, come to Papa. Leave the little meditation lady alone.”

  I couldn’t believe my ears. Little meditation lady?

  First, this man sent his beast to attack me and then he has the nerve to make fun of me.

  And in an instant, the calm, chill Maya was gone.

  “How dare you?” I shouted and tried to push away the dog that still was jumping on me. “Get that ugly thing off me!”

  The dark-haired man laughed out loud.

  “Yes, really funny, isn’t it,” I sneered. “Why don’t you go screw yourself. Both of you.” I stomped furiously through the sand, ignoring both the man and his dog, and rushed back to the house.

  I could still hear the dog-owner’s laughter as I angrily climbed the stairs to the house. What a jerk!

  Back at the house I slammed the door behind me, still fuming. But as soon as I was inside, I sank down to the floor with my face in my hands.

  Oh nooooo. No no no no. What had happened out there? What happened to the cool, chill island Maya?

  I had freaked out when I got attacked. And the man was clearly an idiot. But still.

  I stood up. OK. Deep breaths. No harm done. I’ll probably never see him again. I’ll just stay away from the beach today. It’ll be fine.

  I carefully peeked from behind the flowery curtain to see if the man and his ugly dog were still on the beach. They weren’t. Instead, the man was walking across my lawn, heading toward my house, looking awfully relaxed, confident, and smiling.

  And then it hit me. It was something in his posture, the way he held his head, the laughing eyes. He reminded me of someone I knew. And suddenly I realized who he was.

  I wanted to sink into the ground, hide under the table, or pretend I wasn’t home, but it was too late. He’d seen me peek at him from behind the curtain.

  Red-faced, I opened the veranda door and reluctantly walked out to meet him.

  “Hi, Maya. I’m William, George’s son,” he said and shook my hand. He was taller than his dad and had brown messy hair and brown eyes. But the smile and the firmness of his handshake were the same.

  “Hello, William,” I said, wishing I had a magic wand that could make me evaporate into thin air.

  “I’m really sorry about what happened down there,” William said and nodded toward the beach.

  Even his voice reminded me of George’s.

  He had stopped laughing, but there was still a lot of laughter in his eyes.

  “I tried to stop the dog, but it all happened so fast, and you got so angry. It all looked so funny, and I just couldn’t help myself from laughing. It wasn’t very nice of me, though. I’m really sorry!”

  My face got even redder.

  “So that dog—it wasn’t yours?” I asked, mortified.

  “Nope. Never seen him before,” he said.

  I hid my face in my hands. I didn’t know what else to do.

  When I looked up again, he was still there.

  “This is very embarrassing,” I said, my voice sounding weaker than normal.

  “Don’t worry about it, Maya.” He grinned. “Dad pointed you out to me. I was just on my way over to introduce myself and remind you about the ceremony tonight.”

  I nodded.

  “Yes, of course, thank you. Please tell George I will be there.”

  “Great. See you right before sunset, then,” William said as he waved goodbye.

  I followed him with my eyes as he walked back to George’s house.

  I hadn’t expected William to be like that.

  And I hadn’t expected me to still be like this.

  One week with a chill attitude apparently doesn’t erase all those years without it. You can take the girl out of New York, but you can’t take New York out of the girl, I suppose.

  I was deeply embarras
sed but tried to remind myself of Josh’s advice of not being so hard on myself. I would make sure to pass that advice on to the judgmental voice that just noticed that I had been wearing the pink Aloha Baby bathing suit the entire time.

  “Relax. Nothing is under control,” the soft voice whispered.

  That much I was beginning to understand.

  CONNECT

  Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known.

  CARL SAGAN

  AIMEE

  It was close to sunset when I left the house. I was wearing the only pretty dress I had in my Kaua’i wardrobe. It was long and low-cut in different blue tones, and made me feel like a mermaid. With a slight tan and a little bit of makeup, I looked better and healthier than I had in a long time. I felt a lot healthier, too. I hadn’t eaten any junk or drunk much alcohol since I arrived on the island. I hadn’t really felt like having it. It was almost like I wanted my insides to reflect my surroundings: clean, fresh, and pure. I think it would have put Lisa in a state of shock if she’d seen me.

  As I walked down to the beach, I saw the big bonfire right below where George sat every day. It was the spot where he had proposed to Aimee and where they had exchanged their wedding vows sixty years ago. It was also where they had gathered to spread Aimee’s ashes over the Pacific Ocean ten years ago, just as she had wanted.

  “We both decided early on that neither of us wanted a gravestone. This island that brought us together and the memories held in our hearts were all we needed,” George had told me one day as we drank our morning coffee.

  To me, that made perfect sense. I had only visited Mom’s grave a few times since she died. I never felt she was there.

  A group of about thirty people were standing around the fire, with drinks in their hands, chatting. Everyone seemed to know each other well. A man was playing the ukulele and singing Hawaiian songs.

  George was sitting in a chair a bit outside the group, looking out at the ocean, while William welcomed the newcomers. William looked over at me and gave me a little wave when I arrived, but he didn’t come over. I couldn’t blame him after our encounter earlier.