Wouldn’t it be nice to spend Christmas in paradise? At least that was the intent when, months before the holidays, my son booked a 3D2N family getaway in Boracay.
It’s now common knowledge how typhoon Ursula’s wicked sense of timing ruined Christmas festivities for everyone in that part of the country. With torrential rains bringing floods, and raging winds downing all communication lines, including internet and cable TV connection, what else was there to do but sleep it out in the safety of our hotel room? Such expensive slumbers, and we couldn’t even bring those beds home. 😒
Yet that’s not everything that can be said about our dream holiday gone bad. Allow me to share my Christmas reflections in three parts: (1) Earth, (2) Wind, and (3) Fire.
One cannot be on a beach without meaning to pick up some seashells on the seashore as souvenirs. I know, I know… this is illegal in many places, and especially in Boracay which has a municipal ordinance banning the collection of sand, pebbles, and seashells from its beaches. On Day 1 on the island, I spent about a couple of hours strolling on the beach before it got dark, hoping to spot some pieces of sea glass at least (since collecting shells was a no-no).
Was I on the wrong side of Boracay? Could it be because we were at the traditionally busiest Station in that part of paradise, where the surge of tourists may have adversely affected the abundance of seashells? I had no intention to break the law, and I was not tempted to do that either, because there was NOT one piece of shell to pick up in the first place. I would really like to know why there are no seashells on the shores of Station 2 in Boracay.
As far as my eyes could see, it was a long stretch of pearly white sand, and I couldn’t help asking why Boracay is so blessed. Please click here for an explanation.
There and then I dismissed the idea of finding what I was meaning to see. Instead I strolled barefoot and enjoyed the feel of powdery sand against my soles. That simple exercise now tells me that sometimes we need to hit the road not necessarily to make memories or collect souvenirs, but to simply be in the moment. And in that moment, for me, it was to connect with earth, my personal element — something I have not done in a long while. The sand felt so good as it yielded to my every step, while I imagined whatever undue fears and worries I had being sloughed off along with dead, callused skin. The best foot massage ever.
Thank you, Universe, for that wonderful grounding moment.
(Continue to “Christmas in Paradise, Part 2”)