This is what this raw, gargantuan paradise does, it brings all things bubbling below to the surface. Like lava, so it makes sense.
Right away when I plant my feet in this soil I feel the sickness of where I just came from. (Like any relationship – your wounds and weaknesses suddenly reflected back at you. And you either run solo to avoid dealing or you afford yourself the opportunity to face what’s not right and grow from the push.) Away from here I live happy and healthy, I’m ‘thriving.’
But when I touched the soil, there’s the experience you’re supposed to have in a paradise like this—the bliss, the relaxation, the healing. And it feels far.
Instead, I feel how abnormal it is to cross an ocean in a few organ-compacting, oxygen-deprived, sensory-overloaded hours. I feel the fast pace I’ve been on, the hustle for financial stability, the addiction to email, what’s happening on Instagram, texts I should send to friends, pics I should post, I’m behind, I’ll lose out, be buried.
I see my mom and her torn, old, red dirt-stained farmwork clothes, I don’t know a fraction of what she knows, how will I do this without her? I catch sight of my dad’s skin, his muscles look different this time. I think about what he looked like in 1989 to me, the same person, and the passage of time, which version of him I’ll remember – and the juxtaposition, though he’s still handsome and strong, dizzies me, so staggering I feel like I could drown.
So as I’m laying in bed on the first night and the sea breezes over me, there’s an undercurrent of feeling terrified colliding with another current of gratitude and higher wisdom. I’m breathing, teetering on a fine line between meditation and panic. I could have taken an emergency pill, it was time enough – the adrenaline starting to seep out into my muscles, verging, verging. But I didn’t. Because fear, discomfort, grief, they are divine interventions, our most primitive tools for growth.
And because this is the lesson. This is the purpose of this soil, this rich earth, the paradise: To return you to what lies beneath. To make you more human.
—ruby roth
Flommist Ruby Roth is an artist, designer, creative strategist, and the author-illustrator of four leading books for kids. Her work has been featured on Today, CNN, FOX, NBC, ABC News, and other major media outlets. Copyright © 2018 Ruby Roth.
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