“Unstuck”. The quotation marks in this post below are all too familiar. They stemmed from well-worded conversations that traveled across the 16,894 kilometers between Kochi, India, and Costa Rica. Between me and Crist Inman. About “getting back in”. Going back and forth on happiness and redefining it. On dreaming. Together.
And, I remembered this bouncing, hugging ball of happiness that owned me by the beach at Xandari Pearl in Kerala. Little person, but home of good things.
Much of November was spent by the beach at Mararikulam. Definitely not a reason to complain – the task at hand was to capture the soul of the place in videos. But it came with the unexpected promise of little friends. The friends for life kind.
“This chechi (meaning elder sister in the local language) doesn’t know how to fly a kite”. A line accompanied by eyes sizing me up, hands planted firmly on hips, a growing look of incredulity. I was taken aback. That was the last thing I expected to be admonished for. Was flying a kite as important as learning to file taxes, a life skill? Apparently, yes.
Then came the lesson. Wrestling her brother to take over a handmade kite and the spool of thread, three-year-old Adoniya set out making the world richer, stronger, more wonderful by one more person who could fly.
You had to let go. You couldn’t hold back. No, definitely not tug too hard. You had to climb, I mean isn’t that the whole point; but slowly, surely, steadily. But you could also stay where you got to, but keep moving – a little flutter, tail flying. But something. You had to read the wind – know where it’s coming from, where it’s going. You made it your friend. You had to giggle and jump in excitement – it’s kite flying protocol.
Finally, you had to come home. Reel back the thread, be careful not to break it, come back the distance.
And through it all, make the effort and decide – all the way in the heart of your heart – to remain unstuck.