2010: Chasing Waterfalls

There is something about New Year's that has always appealed to me.  Certainly not the parties, the noisemakers, or watching Dick Clark on TV (though that was a very sad sight this year).  No, what I have always enjoyed most about this time of year is the idea that I can start over again.   It is sort of an official time to hit the reset button, if that is what I desire.  Before pushing forward, however, it is necessary to reflect on the year that was.  Time to revisit the moments that seemed to teach me something brand new, and that touched my heart the deepest.  In 2010, one moment stands above all the others, and seems to be the perfect example of the kind of year it was for me.

It was late June, and I was beginning to hike the Na Pali Coast on the beautiful island of Kauai.  My three friends, Renee, Joseph, Amy, and I had decided to take a quick detour up to Hanikapaai Falls.  This was around the 3-mile mark of the 11-mile trail, and was about a mile or two off the beaten path, if memory serves me.  I had been to this particular falls once before, and all I remembered about it was how remarkably beautiful it was. It looked like something out of a Hollywood movie set!  Huge waterfall stretching to the sky as far as the eyes could see, large pool at the bottom, and nothing but cliffs and rocks all around. 

And the water....oooh the water!   It was cold, but there was something magical about it.  As we hiked up the muddy trail, all of us sweaty and growing more tired, I began to get excited about experiencing it again.  As wonderful as my first dip in that exhilarating pool had been, nothing could have prepared me for what was coming next.

We reached the edge of the pool.  Most people were just sitting on the rocks that surrounded the water, basking in the sun and reveling in what surely must be one of the most beautiful spots on the planet.  But only a few people could be found splashing in the water.  One dip of my toe explained this phenomenon:  it was cold.  Really cold.  Now, I am not usually the first person to go jumping into warm waters, let alone anything that makes me shiver.  But the pull of this waterfall was magnetic.  I just had to get under it.

So, in I went.  My three friends trailed behind, and soon we all began to frolic in the water like young children.  As I swam toward the downpour, the only thing I could hear was the sound of my own laughter, and the sound of my friends' as well.  The cold pool got deeper and deeper, and soon I was swimming right underneath the biggest waterfall I had ever seen.  The water began pounding my head and shoulders with a fury. It sort of hurt, but not in a bad way.  All I could do was laugh, with all the joy of a 5 year-old experiencing the ocean for the first time.  I couldn't remember a time when I had felt more alive and present.

That was when something almost supernatural happened.  I was literally unable to move.  I was cold, but the water felt so fresh and clean that I did not want to leave.  I couldn't leave.  In fact, I kept seeking out areas where the water would pound on my head even harder.  Before I knew what was happening to me, tears began to flow.  

I just sat there getting pelted in the head with the coldest and most invigorating water that had ever touched my body.  The tears and laughter had turned into uncontrollable sobbing and heaving.  I looked around at my companions, who gazed over at me with a mixture of joy and confusion.  I advised them that I was OK.  One by one, they began to swim back to shore.  But I knew I had to stay.

Once alone, I became aware that I had been under this waterfall with my hands in the prayer position for several minutes.  I started to hear things.  Voices, mostly.  They seemed to be telling me that the page was turning, a chapter was ending.  There was no going back now.  Nothing would ever be the same, and I felt in that moment that my heart was opening wide.  I clutched my hand to my heart, and every time I thought about life and how I could not go back from this point, I would cry harder.   No sadness.  Just release.  

After what seemed like an eternity (but was probably only about 10 or 15 minutes), I started to return to shore.  I did so entirely via backstroke, so I could keep looking back at this waterfall that seemingly poured from the heavens.  As I swam, I marveled at the beauty all around me....at the sun peaking out from the clouds above, at the lush green landscapes that made up the walls of this beautiful hideaway.  It seemed logical that there must have been some powerful ceremonies conducted here in past decades.  It felt like one of "those places", and I realized that I had just had some sort of ceremony of my own. 

Right before I reached the shore, a man who was also swimming in the pool took a look over at me and said, "This is life-changing, isn't it?".  All I could do to respond was smile and nod through tears.   As I was finally toweling off and composing myself, my friends gathered around to make sure I was alright.  They told me they loved me, but I waved them off.  Not that I didn't appreciate the sentiment; words just seemed to undermine what was happening.    When I was finally able to talk again, I tried explaining to them that this was the most healing place I had ever experienced, but I couldn't even finish the sentence without another outburst of tears.   

I had my heart and my eyes opened to life in a new way.   As the voice had told me under that waterfall, nothing really was the same after that moment.  Nothing.  A new chapter was born.  Fact is, new chapters are being born all the time.  It just takes an open mind to keep learning and growing.  It takes willingness to get quiet, and to listen.  To jump in just because it feels right.  And, to keep summoning the courage to turn the page when the time has come.

Such was life in 2010.