Why Wait You So Long

It’s hammock time.  Swinging in the breeze, on the atolls off Belize in the heat of midday, a rhythm finds me.  The morning filled with knowledge – coral, the health of today’s oceans, proper care of the planet followed by a paddle into Glover’s Reef to jump in the water and see the beauty of the cycle of life at work.

Travel mates dot the beach, the shade, the sun.  Some nap.  Some read.  Others lie in the sun and laugh.  I hear chatter in the kitchen and the sounds of island music on the radio.  I respect a kitchen playing loud Caribbean music.   Warm smells of ginger cookies waft my way.

How much longer ’til lunch?

In a journey of new discoveries this is the perfect moment.  Sweet.  Spicy.  Fresh.  New.

A week ago we met, a collection of strangers in the jungle.  The group dynamic carries an undercurrent of fun.  I like these people.  They laugh easily.  There is a similarity in those willing to travel through the jungle then go 40 miles off shore to an expedition campsite – for a truly magical adventure.

Everyone has their own reasons for being here,  but among us is a common desire to enjoy, to take pleasure, in each moment.   This is mine.   I memorize it.  This is a moment worth keeping.  A precious flower pressed between pages.

Mike,  one of our Belizean guides, stops to rock my hammock.  He smiles.  “You havin’ fun?”

“A dream come true, this trip has been on my list for fifteen years!”

His smile gets wider and in his best Creole he says “why wait you so long?”

I open my mouth to reply; finances, time, distance, I had a job and then a business and responsibilities, but no sound comes out.  What before seemed like perfectly rational explanations ring as excuses now.  “Why wait you so long” hangs in the breeze.

Why did I wait so long to have a dream?  Why did I wait so long to have white sand beaches and palm trees and warm turquoise water?  Why did I wait so long to give this gift to myself?  I got nothin’… except…

“I was just too busy waiting for tomorrow.”

“Ahhh” he says, still rocking my hammock …“this must be tomorrow then.”

I laugh.  Welcome to tomorrow.

Why wait you so long?  Good question.

Why wait YOU so long… go… http://www.islandexpeditions.com/