Kauai and Stuff

I run the risk of sounding stupid (everything I say is such a "duh" moment) here, but bear with my explanation of experience.

When my mom was driving me to the airport before coming here, she asked me what I planned to gain from my trip to Kauai. To be entirely honest, I had no idea. In my head, it was something along the lines of “perspective.” Of course, she was asking me in terms of when I’d be getting a job and getting my life on track, but that consumed little of my thought process—probably to her dismay, if she’s reading this. Although I did hope to gain some clarity on how I wanted to proceed with my life following this trip, I gave it no real thought, which is entirely antithetical to my typical behavior. I excited myself with adventure but made it a point not to overthink it unless my mind and body made me do otherwise—which occurred without fault the night before I left. This is normal. I came here with no expectations, no plans, no rules to be liked or force myself to like anything, except to challenge myself every day. So now I’ve been here almost a month, and I’m writing to you to report what I’ve learned so far.

I think there's an effervescent energy on Kauai, possibly on all the islands in general, but I’ve only been to Kauai (which I’ve learned is abnormal for most travelers). It is lush and fruitful and rich with beauty and culture. I have never, in my entire life, been met with such communal kindness—which, truth be told, was weird to adjust to. That’s not to say it’s because I’m accustomed to being a hater, but I think criticalness has overpowered my day to day. My assessment is that I was previously programmed to be a skeptic (a cunt) instead of just enjoying what is and naturally finding the beauty in everything, which usually would’ve been a forced task for me to handle. You know how people say if you force yourself to smile it’ll make you happier—that was kind of like my life in New York, except I was not walking around smiling at everything most of the time. It was pretty touch and go. Some days were good, most were filled with comparison and self-doubt, little to no appreciation for my environment. Within one night of being here, it was like a switch had flipped, and I can only attribute that to the energy here. Walking into a coffee shop and being met with genuine kindness and interest in my day feels like something that lacks in New York City. Or again, maybe I was just overcritical and ignored authentic kindness when it greeted me. Whatever the fuck, it is present to me here. There’s a great reward in extending a hand, going the extra mile, doing it because you can and not because you have to. This seems super remedial and overtly on par with just being a good person but, I hate to say, it was something I learned here. At the very least, something I finally integrated.

On my second day here, I woke up with pretty ripe sun poisoning and had to get to a drugstore QUICK. The buses don't run on Sunday and it was about a three mile walk, so I ordered an Uber and had one of the most meaningful conversations I’ve ever had with a person in 20 minutes. Adam drove me to the drugstore, waited for me to come out, and took me back to the hostel for free. The free ride was his insistence on engaging in such powerful conversation about the way we demonstrate our beliefs—mine coming from a political standpoint and his from a moral. It’s common here for strangers to transform into acquaintances through introduction in coffee shops, compliments, or invites to parties and barbecues. Which leads me to the next important thing I’ve learned.

The imperative need to meet new people.

I keep my circle tight in Manhattan. I’m not sure I’ve made a new friend there on pure spontaneity since I was a sophomore in college, three years ago. Here, I meet someone new every day. I learn someone's story and tell mine every single day. I love it. The hostel itself is full of diverse walks of life that I find myself intertwined with within the hour. Engaging in conversation with a new person in New York often felt—what’s the word? My mind is saying “unimportant,” but that’s not what I mean. It was always just in passing, usually at a bar, drunk. We’d say we’d text the next day to hang out and no one ever did. Which, of course, is partially my fault. For some reason, it always felt like a task and I regret that. I think the difference is that I felt really comfortable in New York. My life was easy and, for the most part, I had it all, from a material standpoint. I’m not saying I’m uncomfortable here—maybe at first I was—but everything is new and my time is limited. Suppose those things make me feel like I should go after everything. I have been so inspired by the people I’ve met at the hostel—guests and volunteers. I’ve learned so much about the different paths you can take in life and the necessity to live how you want. I’ve been saying for a long time to “live how you want to live,” but I’m certain I never knew exactly what that looked like. I was, and partly still am, so set on what success and happiness should look like, and that’s not to say I can’t achieve the goals I’m supposed to have, but maybe I don’t have to burn myself out trying to do it right away.

I did not take advantage of all that was around me in New York and it’s something I plan to change when I return. I did not have an open energy. In fact, I think I was completely closed off. It is true that a lot of the je ne sais quoi in New York City is to “keep to yourself,” but I wonder if I invite people into my newfound open energy the greetings would be different, and so would my fulfillment. It’s energizing to put yourself into an uncomfortable situation and come out of it feeling comfortable within a short period of time. I’ve met strangers and in an hour we’re driving north to a place we’ve never been, exchanging truths I’d hardly share with one of my best friends. It’s really very cool, and this might sound so god damn dumb, but I’ve been remiss for a long time. Comfortability is good, but being uncomfortable and embracing it is even better.

I keep busy here for the most part. It’s no secret that I’m not doing a different eight mile hike to some beautiful peak every day, but I do something new when I get the chance. And being so busy and so enthralled in unknown places and people has taken my mind off of myself, which was one of my main goals coming here. Weird confession, but I used to spend a lot of time watching my own videos on TikTok, examining myself, critiquing my looks and words and how people might perceive me. It’s ever-consuming and a distraction from the present. I care more about what I might gain in this moment than what it will look like to the world perceiving me, aesthetic-wise. I’m not sure that makes sense, hopefully it does. Haven’t fully fleshed this part out yet, but perhaps in the coming weeks I will. Rather, I’ve been working on accepting my natural self, my curly and usually unruly hair, my skin as it is, and not upsetting myself with what it isn’t, and mostly the way I dress. It’s never been a big issue for me but I often felt so obsessive about the clothes that I wore and here, I’m not. But my style still comes to me, which is affirming. I am less a product of the place and more a product of my own, which was a part of my identity that I struggled with in Manhattan—I constantly questioned if I was really myself or what I thought I was supposed to be. When I go home I want to find a balance between these parts of myself, my natural self and my material self. I’ve restored appreciation for my material things in having relinquished my necessity for them. I love my clothes, I love my heels and I love dressing the way I do. I’m so excited to go home and be with my closet once again—love renewed. It is a creative outlet for me, and maybe one of the only ones I felt I had back home, though I hardly exercised it to its potential. I’ve made it a point to branch out and explore more art forms and expression through other people’s art. Once again, it’s energizing. For now, I’m enjoying the simplicity and ease of just putting on what’s clean. I was, and maybe still am, completely obsessed with myself, but, I reckon, in a more positive light that doesn’t weigh so heavily.

My mistakes have still taken me here.

A friend of mine said that the other day and it’s really true. You cannot be worrying yourself about the wrongs of your past because no matter what, you will still find yourself somewhere incredible. My shame was the chip I carried on my shoulder and it suspended my ability to be my best self. Somehow, I always found a way to regularly remind myself of the bad I’ve done and the things I’ve let happen to me. It paralyzed my work and productivity, it fueled my doubt and my inability to be good at something as simple as my passion for openness. For the first time in a really long time, I feel like a positive contributor and it’s not by some grandiose accomplishment or high paying job. It’s in the work that I do at the hostel, in the meaningful conversations I engage in, and in the things I can do for others. Relinquishing my shame and worrying less about how perfect I should be has blessed my soul. Like, for real. I know my work is good, or at the least, it can be good enough.

I feel intensely grounded and centered here. I am not swallowed by the things I cannot control and the things that do not concern me. I am the person that I am, I’m flawed, as is everybody, and I can understand my mistakes and move forward with correction and growth.

I can see how people get sucked into living a life like this because it really does feel like a whole other type of freedom. I’m not sure how to describe it yet, but it also has pushed me to inspire my life back home and what I need to do to find this fulfillment there. The place has taught me something but it does not exist only in the place. I am adamant about bringing what I’ve learned back to New York and it truly overwhelms me with excitement. I feel like a really good version of myself and I’m shocked how little it concerned me to be good prior to being here. I have not been half the person I have the potential to be and I’m so grateful to have learned that. It does all seem a little ridiculous and unreal, but, like, whatever. Dumb girl moment, who gives a fuck.

So, I’m super lucky, beyond blessed, my life is awesome and most of all, I’m proud of myself. That’s it. I’ve been editing this for like three days because I feel like I’m not properly articulating the way I feel and the things I have learned, but edits can always be made again. Every single thing in life is subject to change. You can always change your mind, you can always go a different way.

Love you.