Appreciation

 Today a few of us here in Paje went on search of internet – a common search. We found a place where we could sit outside on the beach and check our email. A woman (another mzungu) decided to tell about how “fucking crazy” it was that we were sitting in this beautiful place and all four of us were on our computers. I didn't disagree. She was right but I did feel slightly intruded. After leaving, Sal leaned in and said that yes, this place is amazing, but it's not the most spectacular thing in the world. She was saying that of all the places she knows, this isn't the one that calls her in, the mountains are. I agreed. I looked at her and said,

“we're mountain girls.”

After arriving back home, I quickly changed to get a run in before the day came to a close. I ran a few feet from the house to get to the beach. I left just after 6 and as I continued the sun began to set. The whole world seemed to shift in a minute and soon the colors took to a pastel that I have never experienced. The change was awesome – literally... awe-some. It was bright and rich and vivid and soft.

I thought suddenly back my exchange with Sal. It seemed as though this place was reminding me of something. A sentence or words don't necessary derive directly from thoughts. To say something is easy and quick. But once something is said, it can derive your thoughts. Spoken words can linger and a subconscious, unacknowledged train of thought can occur. I know the world was simply doing it's thing – the sun was setting, but I felt like it was proving something – teaching me something. I need to be aware of the things I say because after they're spoken, new things are perceived. I think at that moment I under-appreciated the beauty of this place because my own voice told me that the mountains are my home.

I was reminded that it's a gift to be here. And as the sun set on the opposite side of the island it drew a rich yellow. Pinks and oranges were cast to the other side of the sky on top of the ocean, turning trees to dark silhouettes. 

At that moment it felt sort of like something lifted up off my shoulders and I saw all the people on the beach – the families searching for shells to sell, the tourists exercising and walking with their partners, the swahili boys playing soccer. The place took on a new type of spectacular.

I appreciated it right then as the most beautiful place on earth.