“For Pete’s sake, let out some line! I need your kite to be above the power line and about 30 feet to the right of that rusty TV satellite dish. Dude, I’m trying to take a meaningful picture.”
Impatience comes naturally. Is it the world I live in? Is it my genetic material? Is it a cop-out strategy?. Or is it blindness? After two weeks of mulling over the question, I have concluded that for me personally, it is both blindness and a cop-out. Perhaps after a bit more pondering, I’ll come up with additional reasons. But for now, I can attest to blindness and copping out. A picture perfect day beside the ocean, a billowing kite; and yet instantly out pops a self serving agenda. It doesn’t make sense.
Years ago, we had the inkling to buy beach front property in Mexico. In just under 5 hours, we can leave work and be at the beach. Relatively simple, because once upon a time, living in the Florida Keys I drove 4.5 hours to the mainland to work back to back weekend shifts. With Seamore Pacific sitting on the hard, twice a month we will attempt to escape to our little casa, which includes housekeeping services. Mwah is the housekeeper. As tempting as it sounds to arrive at our cerebral-oasis and find it dust free and sparkling clean, Captain Chameleon and I made a choice to forgo having someone come in and sweep up the sand, mop the floors, and wash the windows prior to our arrival. For us, every little bit saved, puts us closer to cruising and free time. Fortunately, I enjoy cleaning. I’ve no idea how our story would go if I lead a revolution against cleaning. I imagine we would get used to sand between our sheets?
Back to the guy flying his kite…I was on our second story patio, mopping, and cleaning the sliders when I looked up to see a kite lift up from the beach. Not yet picture perfect, I dashed inside to get my camera. Then, I waited, waited, squinted, cheered, coaxed, and cursed for the blasted kite to get high enough over the power line and be to the left of the obstructing beach house for me to take a “perfect” picture. I took lots of pictures. Deleted most of them. Cropped the others. Then returned to Phoenix and got busy with work. But each day, I would think of the kite.
Tonight, running along a busy Phoenix street, my struggle with how I wanted to see the kite and the way in which the kite really existed, became clear. The kite was beautiful because it WAS flying in midst of a power line and a rusty TV satellite. Capturing its own whiff of wind, it was able to fly. Above the housetops. Unsnarled by modern day conveniences. Metaphorically it is a representation of what I wish for until we are back to our simple life of cruising. No regrets, Seamore Pacific is dry docked; we have returned to work for a season, we miss our cruising life, and yet we are enjoying navigating life-as it is for now.