Happy Thanksliving

This Thanksgiving, Kauai’s Fringe-dweller’s buzz is a new twist to the holiday name. Forget the pilgrims and natives story, of course. Black Friday is being boycotted. And don’t bother greeting each other with the traditional “Happy Thanksgiving.”

No, (or, rather, in the life-affirming ‘yes’) Thanksgiving is being transformed. We can now share with each other a new and neutral celebratory reminder.

We have evolved to “Happy Thanksliving”.

So, in keeping with living in thanks, Jeb, the Bohemian and I moved out of the kitchen (grateful, of course, for the homemade chocolate and avocado pie in the refrigerator) and went down to the beach, ever-thankful for a beautiful day on the island.

Jessica Dofflemyer ~ all rights reserved

Commentary on the menace of beach trash, aside, it was fun to watch this boy moving his new-found treasure. A huge plastic buoy had washed toward the river mouth. Full of water, it was very heavy, but he refused to give up, dragging it to the other end of the beach with slow and steady determination.

These shots are of him – Sisyphus in motion – and then, just resting with his find.

Jessica Dofflemyer ~ all rights reserved

The other two pictures are random photos taken while Jeb and the Bohemian explored Jeb’s secret beach hideout. No mom’s allowed. Which, suited me just fine. No need to be in the boy’s club when I can draw mandalas in the sand, dip my toes in the river and sing to myself in the wind.

Jessica Dofflemyer ~ all rights reserved

I could expound upon these moments, metaphors aplenty.  Embracing shadows, treasure or trash…Could Sisyphus simply have enjoyed the uphill journey if he only had enough presence?

But it’s a holiday.  I’ll rest my mind.  Just let myself feel grateful in this thanks living.

Jessica Dofflemyer ~ all rights reserved

Like Butter

The morning’s in slow motion.

7am and beach bound.  I’m driving alone on an empty highway.  Windows down.  Barefoot and in the Brazilian bikini hand-me-down (It didn’t fit her.  It suits me this morning.).

The early air cools bare skin.  Hints of Fall.

By the shore, senses are alive.  The sound of white washing.  Crash.  Hiss.  The mist of sea salt settles on my lashes.  Sinking sand sifts beneath each measured step.  Soft.  Steady.  Slow.

There is no hurry here this morning.  I am the embodiment of leisure.  Dancing with a lover.  Inhaling golden rays that pour from sunrise clouds.

Last week my post-operative jaw was on ice.  Today, I’m warm with give.

Like butter.

Jessica Dofflemyer - all rights reserved