Is There Life After Retirement?

Continuing the trend of recycling old things I’ve written while waiting for new inspiration… here’s something from 2007:

I smiled as I listened to my neighbors toss one-liners across the picnic tables near the Hana Ranch Restaurant take–out window.  The good-natured banter, spoken in the unique cadence of East Maui is like a daytime lullaby to me – melodic and familiar – and quite comforting.  The fact that this was set against a backdrop of palm trees, horses and a turquoise sea made it near perfect.  I was warmly included in the chitchat but didn’t contribute much, which is quite out of character for an old chatterbox like me.

            While enjoying the moment externally, my thoughts wandered inward.  There is always a familiar note to how a scene such as this felt to me, but I could never put my finger on what exactly it was.  Finally, right there at the Restaurant Take Out, it occurred to me.  For much of my eighteen years in Hana I had been subconsciously using a skill developed as a child. 

            One of the best parts of my childhood was the time I spent on my grandparents’ farm in Eastern Ohio.  My cousins and I would roam the hills, hide from cows and spend hours playing in our beloved creek.  I loved that creek.  It was quite shallow, so the stream provided great water adventures for a non-swimmer like me.  I would try to walk across the water, carefully balancing on the rocks in the creek bed.  There was one place, midpoint between the banks, where the rocks would shift.  I’d balance very carefully, one foot on the rock I was leaving, with the other on the rock in the direction I was headed.  From this precarious spot I could see all the way down to where the tree had fallen across the water, right before the bend.  I would stop and stay there for the longest time – resting my weight sometimes on the rock to the left and then switching to the right.  The footing was not secure, but nevertheless, in time I learned how to maintain my balance.  And the view totally justified the effort.

            Hearing my name called, my attention snapped back to the present and my breakfast order.  An acquaintance and fellow mainlander, who currently lives in South Maui, was doing the Hana Highway tour with visiting relatives that morning and saw me at the picnic table.  We did hellos and introductions, and they were off to explore.  After a brief explanation to my neighbors “She teaches at the College” and some polite “ahs..” the banter resumed.

            Shifting that balance – from one foot to the other – under the surface – is exactly what the past eighteen years has felt like.   Only instead of creek bed rocks, I’m balancing between cultures.  My back foot is planted on my own background for which I am comfortable while the foot in front is planted on this lovely host culture, which I try not to dilute with my westerner’s way.  Back and forth, my footing is never completely sure and frankly, I don’t know how long I’ll continue in this manner. But like the creek from so long ago, the experience is worth the balancing act.