I was right… I had hoped I was wrong…

The trials and tribulations of adjusting to paradise..., who knew??

Photo by Karson on Unsplash

(Click below for the audio file…)

I was right. I had hoped I would be wrong.

“Yes, yes, yes”- everyone said: “Hawaii! Why wouldn’t you want to live there?! It’s paradise! You’ll love it!” As my mind and body were trying to help me wrap my head around our next move, these remarks usually made me cringe. 

It’s as if these folks trusted the images on postcards or some romance movie more than my actual concerns or reality. And then I found myself defending my truth which just added to the frustration of it all.  

After having navigated many moves already, I knew there would be a season of a transition that requires shifts. As a family we would be shifting, because of course we are moving. But every time we land or arrive at our new place, I’m inherently different, the kids are older and my marriage has gone through some tweaks, and danced some new jigs. 

As much as I tried to lean into the idea of Hawaii being a great, fun family adventure, it’s as if I was forecasting that although the beach sand, for example, would initially feel oh so malleable and forgiving under my having just- moved- from- Germany- tired- feet- and- body. And after the fun wore off, the once cozy warm silty sand would feel more like quicksand. Pulling energy from my body instead of creating a stable surface to bounce back from. 

I was right. But man, I had hoped I would be wrong.

See for me, I knew that paradise is 100% worth visiting, but I soon found out that living there is a whole other reality. When you’re on vacation- well sure it’s great! Enjoying the endless sunny days, the beach, and the beautiful foliage. That is great for a getaway! And, but, then—that: “every.day.is.the.same.exact.temperature” luxury feeling of being on vacation feels more like a groundhog feeling—without any sense of the days or seasons changing.

In paradise, it’s always the same- every.day. The warm temps, the same blue shade and cloudless sky. During the year, there are stretches of a bit more wind and a bit more rain, and the sky changes briefly to grey. And some days there is a lot more wind and a lot more rain. But even those shifts feel relatively mild. In other parts of the world it would still definitely feel like the same season.

You know what seasons do for me? They give permission for internal shifts to happen.

But the actual almost rigidness of my environment felt like it wasn’t giving me permission or at least creating, or allowing a path for the changes that I could feel were imminently needed to make this transition. 

When I was sad or depressed, my paradise environment denied me of those feelings. Like when an otherwise caring adult tells the upset child: “don’t cry, don’t cry”, when really the child is hurting physically and emotionally and just needs some tending to—not a denial of what he/she is going through. 

At first, though, I really did try to listen to that well meaning voice, “just be happy”! The sun was shining, the sky was a beautiful blue; the ocean was that blue-green color that jewelry is often fashioned after. My favorite colors really!

As someone who finds joy just in gazing at just the right shade of blue and green, the colors of the ocean sometimes beckoned me like a night walker getting out of bed with a laser focus on the white moon light shining through the window. I would have almost out- of- body feelings when I would forget the sadness and unsettling feelings I was having, and imagine being enveloped by the gorgeous enticing colors, white warm sand, gentle rock of the waves, and cool feeling of the ocean water. 

In those moments, I wanted to say to my kids, “okay let’s go to the beach. Stop what you are doing, lets get our swim suits on!” Any other time this truly would have been THE escape, the reprieve I needed- physically, mentally, and emotionally. 

I was almost wrong—the moment seemed SO right! 

But, it was the summer of 2020, and with strict COVID regulations in Hawaii, one could not “just go to the beach.”  People were allowed only for swimming or surfing. There was no just relaxing or hanging out. And in fact I had heard one too many stories of mothers getting ticketed for having been on the beach too long with their toddler who just needed a snack.

And so like that time when my entire body was salivating over a freshly scooped Belgian chocolate ice cream cone, only to have it dropped to the ground when someone from behind accidentally bumped into me, the reality of my situation left me to sulk back into the hotel coach for more TV channel surfing. The only kind of “surfing” I had the capacity for.    

My heart and soul were really grieving, but the environment of paradise was happy as can be! Like a dog that just focuses on the SUPER exciting moment of saying, “hello, can you scratch my ears?” And has not a care or worry otherwise. And so, there were moments that I did just allow my eyes to indulge in what they were seeing, even if my whole self could not. And I did enjoy those warm breezes out on the lanai before the sun got too hot, or at the end of the day when the sun started retiring into the ocean horizon. In a state of big transition and unsettling feelings, those indulgent and dependably moments of reprieve gave me a steadiness that I was truly grateful for in body and spirit.

Mostly though, there I was in “paradise”, feeling sad, a bit depressed, and certainly very disoriented. With so much grief happening inside I longed to be held by an environment where I felt seen and not ignored. 

I started to have this deep urge that seemed to be summoning me towards, what felt like an indescribable longing for Home.

A Home I hadn’t intended to look for. A Home that answered questions I didn’t know I had. A Home that didn’t budge if we moved again. A Home that was not determined by my environment. A Home that could house my Soul. 

Although I had these inner stirrings, in retrospect I realize I didn’t have the language to really understand, let alone articulate, what I was feeling. It’s like there was a disconnect between my Soul and my brain. I think it’s what happens when we get used to “going with the flow” and “getting done what needs to get done.” It’s sort of the place, or space in time where our brain dominates especially in times of survival—big life transitions. 

My brain had gotten so used to listening to the external guidance around COVID survival and moving logistics, that it really couldn’t understand my inner needs. From my brain’s point of view- ALL the boxes had been checked: COVID rules had been followed, moving lists fulfilled. But the language of the Soul often doesn’t fit neatly on lists and within boxes to be checked; it’s often undefinable and unexplainable. 

What resulted from this deep disconnect within me was a complete lack of motivation. It was like trying to get over a chasm in a mountain- on one side was my brain and the other my Soul. And with a feeling of not being able to change my situation, I just felt “blah…”

As I navigated this utter disgruntlement, one of my saving graces was the connection to an on-line woman’s coaching group. I had joined it in Germany and continued in Hawaii. At first the weekly calls would be at 7pm German time, and then it became 7am in Hawaii! Even though this group couldn’t help with the logistics of all that was going on in my daily life, the outside consistent weekly support was a godsend. 

In one of our calls, after I had somehow described what I was feeling, my coach suggested I rest more. And that’s when my first defined feeling of bewilderment came to the surface. 

Rest?! Wait, what?! I told her, “all I am doing is staying at the hotel, ‘doing’ nothing. NOTHING! Because of COVID regulations and precautions I can’t even go hang out on the beach! I can’t move into my house because we’re still waiting to close. I can’t even go help my parents who are moving from their beloved home of 35 years. I can’t DO anything, and you’re suggesting that I need to REST more?!”

And my coach, letting my outrage fly past her, just gently nodded “yep”, through the zoom call on my laptop screen. 

It felt akin to asking a slow moving sloth coming down a tree at the pace of a snail, and saying, “hey, you see that branch on the left? When you get there, why don’t you take a rest- a nap for a while?” I mean really the sloth is going plenty slow enough- why would it need additional rest?!

But when she further explained, “Clara even if you aren’t physically doing anything, you still need to rest. You’ve had so much going on in this move, you just need a break,” I could feel a sense of relenting to this guidance—a giving in. It was like a bridge was forming over that chasm in the mountain; my brain acknowledging that taking care of all the logistics was actually very tiring, and my Soul feeling heard. 

In a brief pause after I absorbed her words, I could tell that she was speaking to that deep inner knowing of searching for “Home” that I had not even yet fully understood, and would not have otherwise spoken or recognized.  

Now with some sense of inner unity and calmer-ness, I asked my coach: “well what would I do?” And she said, “I don’t know. But I do know you shouldn’t schedule anything. Just try and go with the flow. Do what your body wants to do. If it wants to sleep, sleep. If it wants to walk, go for a walk. Just follow inspired, not planned action.” 

I had known this coach for some time, so even though I really didn’t believe or understand her guidance, I did trust her. And my brain went from absorbing her initial words of taking a rest as if they came out of a mouth of a goat with moose antlers, to my soul and now heart feeling the offer of a fluffy bed to plop into.  

As my self transitioned to the kinder translation of the intention and invitation to “rest”, my brain continued to pop in with bouts of resistance, interjecting with: “okay, whatever. How is this going to actually happen?!” And then I heard an inner voice: “okay, let’s just see IF this was to work out, what would you do?” 

There was something about an offer with a perspective of curiosity that allowed my brain to calm down again. And so an opening of possibilities came into my purview. Taking one investigative step at a time, I found an air bnb that was available and had a reasonable rate. 

Even though my brain now on board with some of the logistics falling into place, I still generally felt pretty uncomfortable. I felt a sense of guilt to be leaving my husband and kids during a relatively simple, but difficult time, nonetheless. I felt bad spending our limited moving funds on just myself. And my being was quite unsettled in this new reality- I was recovering and still having lots of emotion leaving beloved friends in Germany. I was quite honestly just anxious as I also had NO idea what to expect. The unfamiliarity of my new surroundings, mixed with intentionally doing something additionally unfamiliar felt very disconcerting.   

But, with that beckoning from my inner guidance, as well as the support of my coach and the woman’s group I was in, I clicked “confirm” on the Aribnb check-out form.