Life Unraveled

With my 20th high school reunion fast approaching, I have been reminiscing quite a bit lately.  About people, places, things, smells, foods, you name it.  Today's golden memory involved my favorite books growing up--Choose Your Own Adventure books.  Remember those?  Neither did I, until today.  They were the books where you would read a page, then follow the directions on the bottom of that page to your next step in the story.  Your choices would look something like this: If you decide to go to your high school reunion, turn to page 3. If you decide not to go, and stay in Hawaii,  turn to page 4. If you decide to save your money and go back to Bali instead, turn to page 5.   I loved reading these books as a kid.  Even when I would make choices that led me to an untimely demise, I still got a kick out of them all.    Besides, I could always start over and just choose again.  It was like a little game, trying to make the best decisions possible to maximize your adventure (an

I am hiding in plain sight. I am no stranger. In fact, I am always right here. I'm not sure why you make it is so difficult to notice me. You see Paul, people like yourself want to discover me, to know more about me, and yet you make it seem like such an impossible mission. It's as if I am a needle in a haystack or something. You make it your life's goal, your only driving force, to find me when in fact, there is nothing to seek. I am always here, Paul, and at so many times in your life you have seen me, known me, felt me, and understood me in all of my forms. Trust me. You have . You call me  LOVE . I know I am in high demand. The world is always searching for more of me.   And so are you. It's ok to say it, Paul.   No worries.  You  want what everyone else wants. Nice to know you're not alone, isn't it? I have good news for you. It is so simple to "find" me. Just take a look around you, at any time, on a

Here i sit, on the most remote land mass in the world, quietly reflecting.  All I keep hearing in my head is that line of the Talking Heads song "Once in a Lifetime" when David Byrne cries out in a shocked voice: " How did I get here ??"  Two years ago this month, I returned to Oahu to live, to make it my permanent (read: new ) home.  What started as an extended vacation to help me figure out what the heck I was doing with my life became something much more.  I realize that this is the way that many people come to call Hawaii home.  But I was never one of those people who dreamed of living in Hawaii.  Never.   I took a trip to Maui in 2007 as a birthday present to myself, but never once thought I would move here.   Then in 2008, something happened.  I was on a cruise ship, heading to Mexico and enjoying a vacation with some close friends.  Sitting atop the boat, there was nothing but water in every direction.   Just lots and lots of blue water, with clear blu

Sometimes I just want to sing out loud, regardless of where I am.  I just get the urge to belt out a song.  Yet, I rarely do it.  I guess I don't have the confidence in my voice, or maybe I think I will be ridiculed by the general public.  Who knows.  It's probably a combination of those and other factors.  Nevertheless, I always wish I was one of those people who could just sing whenever the whim strikes.  And then there is Ray. Ray is a co-worker and a friend.  He is a medium-height, stocky Samoan (even he will tell you he has big shoulders) with chunky black-framed glasses and a booming voice.  Maybe it is easier to just say that he is a force of nature.  Normally during our mornings at Starbucks, Ray can be found belting out all of his favorites from the 60's, as well as every song from his all-time favorite Disney flick, Little Mermaid .  The boy's got range.  And when his usual 10-shot-espresso barrage is winding down, the playlist gets more and more depres

Dear Paul: I know you never thought you would hear from me again.  But as I swirl around the warm blue waters of the Pacific Ocean, I just had to say one final goodbye.  I know that our parting was a little difficult for you, but I want to assure you that I served my purpose.  I remember back in March when Melina, that wonderful tour organizer of yours, was shopping for keepsake gifts for you and all of your traveling buddies near the end of your stay in Bali.  She spotted me, an unassuming brown hemp bracelet thingy with two ornamental brown beads, and just knew I was meant for your wrist.  Oh Paul, I remember our first meeting so clearly.  It was your final night dinner in Bali, and as I was gently secured around your wrist, I could immediately detect your happiness.   I was like the icing on the cake for you--a tangible piece of Bali to take back to your life in Hawaii.  A constant reminder of a trip of a lifetime, and a way to keep the vacation fumes going a bit longer.  T