Swimming with my face in the water….

Three days into my island visit…. Kaua’i has had her healing hands on me.  How would one describe to anyone else what healing on an island feels like, looks like, sounds like, smells like, and even tastes like?  Are there any of the typical five senses involved in a healing process? Is healing even just a made up story? Who says one needs to heal or what to do to heal, or knows when one is healed? And healing from what?  It’s the many loved ones around me healing from life threatening illness, or health issues in their families or the loss of loved ones all together who are indeed need of something defined as “healing.” And yet there is no rating on who gets to heal or for what, I know that about the universe. And I know I’m here and I know I’m healing.

The day I arrived here so did two spots on my tongue. I’ve not looked it up online because my mind has already run wild with the worst case scenarios and since I’m not in my home country what am I to do about it anyways. Tonight I did brave looking it up online and although I’ll still seek out medical advice upon my return home guess what the first thing I found about what it was? 

What you have is called Benign migratory glossitis or geographic tongue. 
Do you suffer from stress or mental anxiety of any kind? particularly related to domestic or professional problems? Stress triggers the appearance of this malady. Eating spicy food only increases the burning sensation that occurs due to the inflammation of your taste buds. Do not smoke when you have this appearing on your tongue. Try and avoid spicy food, and use some method of relaxation, like meditation or Yoga.  You may even use a mild analgesic or anaesthetic lotion on your tongue 10 minutes before you eat. It helps to avoid the burning and irritation.

Interesting? I possibly have Geographic Tongue?

So let me share what the healing has felt like, as a starting place. This island has a way of caressing you. Lying on the beach I’m subtly aware of how the sand feels underneath my fingers each little shell is kissing each molecule of my skin, soft to the touch. Her waves crash upon the shore demanding all my attention to her and nothing else enters my thought. The wind moves her hands up my entire body like she’s wrapping me up in satin. Her touch is warm and patient. A swim is the only thing to cool me down, temporarily, though in the water she has her way with me. This island has nothing other than a complete and utter feeling of seducing me with her sensuality and love.  At least that’s what she’s giving to heal me.

And I’m learning how to play with her too.

As I’m snorkeling it takes all my concentration to enjoy and relax what I’m being exposed too. The majestic world of the coral has sights and colours rarely seen. Even though I’ve snorkeled before I’m finding the procedure of shifting my natural breathing patterns from in and out the nose, to in and out of the mouth has an unsettling edge to it.  And then as I glide over the coral and the schools of fish looking back at me I remind myself deep, long breaths as I’m currently at a rhythm much like I’m hyperventilating.

I realize the root of what is having all these necessary functions be the most unsettling is swimming with my  face in the water.  A few times I catch myself pulling my head out to look ahead at where I’m going… innocent enough. Yet, it’s exactly this type of action that often has me misguided by what is right there in front of me. Looking ahead at what’s coming, another wave knocks me off my balance and I swallow salt water. Looking ahead at where I’m going I can only see that which sits above the water and it cannot guide me through into the deep caverns of the coral. So putting my face back in the water the waves no longer knock me over, the path is clear; I start breathing with the rhythm of the ocean and notice the fish rolling around in the sand like puppy dogs. Sliding my hands back along my side I float along and before long it feels natural to swim with my face in the water.

Love, Cassándra