Room to Grow

There is no need to descend deep underwater when the walking world is making you tremble, unfortunately I realized this 30 feet under the ocean struggling to breathe compressed air. Trembling, I must admit, was the state of our beings as we drifted away from the orphanage, on a lancha, upon multiple buses, an overnight in La Ceiba and a ferry to Roatan, Honduras. For some reason, we thought our escape from the U.S., the work world, the bills, the car, would open up all this time for ourselves, for each other, for more happiness, for healing. But what has happened is struggle, survival, and less time for us as individuals and friends. This realization hits you like an early winter windgust and stays inside you with a sense of disappointment that only you can bring on yourself, hold there, look at it, and eventually free yourself of it.

And so, Roatan, with its perfect powdery beaches, coral fringed edges that hugged the entire island, endless sunshine, and an ocean that brought forth more shades of blue than the assortment found at home depot, was beautiful, tranquilo, everything the guidebooks rave about. The island helped us to sort things out, talk, and come up with possibilities to enjoy ourselves more. Floating, yes, now that is good, and as my dear husband uttered ¨you´re like my grammy - a floating, long-legged creature¨ one balmy day as I floated on the piercing blue water of Roatan, as he struggled to fill his chest up with air to avoid sinking.

Matthew here. It's true, I can`t float and my wife can like a lillypad. Roatan was good to me, for the most part. I finished two books, and spent the remainder of time reading the other novel that is me. I realized where I have been this spring with my marriage and where I need to go. Funny thing, ordinarily, I always think that we are some marvelous organsism, our marriage, doing and being the kind of people I suppose or hope we should be. But suddenly, your person gets squeezed by it`s environment and you kind of sink inside yourself, like an anchor, and wake up to find you`re responding to the most minimal requests of your best friend with only grunts and groaning. How can that happen? Shamefull really.

We will be back at the orphanage this afternoon, with renewed spirits, I think. Without going into all the particulars, we have got to find time to be together other than sleeping. We also have to find time for space for ourselves. This isn`t going to be easy, considering the circumstances.

For me, every time the thought crosses my head that we should pack it in and head back to the states, and believe me I`ve thought about it plenty, I remember some wisdom my friends Tom and Colleen once told me. They spent a year living in west Africa, new cultures and language, struggle here and there, and told us our experience would go something like this. Initial honeymoon, then for three months you grow to hate everything about it, the people the places, every time you have to barter with a guy for a 5 cent piece of fruit.

We are not totally there yet, sometimes I`m close. And then, Tom and Colleen said, things will start to click and your experience will become, in your mind, the rewarding thing you hoped it would all be. We are waiting for the moment when the momentum changes, because we have a lot of love to give to this place and each other and there is so much room for us to grow.

And to shed a positive impression, I (heather) just got back from buying a bagful of fruit and veggies. I was happy, the interactions were all positive, I got smiles and not stares. Maybe I´m at least getting the hang of this.