It’s no wonder the chicken proliferates and hang out at the beaches when surfers and bathers can’t resist feeding them their lunch. No one seems to mind the chickens and roosters, instead finding humor in their presence, as we do.

Yesterday, we spent the entire afternoon at friend’s Elaine and Richard’s home meeting a new couple, Carol and David. Oh, good grief, we all had so much in common and many stories to share.

We told Richard he was the best matchmaker of people in the world, a true proverbial social director and people connector. It requires tremendous self-confidence to be able to step back from the limelight in a friendship to introduce one’s friends to new people. Not everyone can do this. Richard is an expert in this area and we appreciate both he and Elaine.

At times, on clear days, a perfect stretch of beach is unoccupied such as shown here.

They set a beautiful table and their gorgeous home was, as always, impeccably appointed and inviting. Sitting in the beautiful living room after our delicious meal all of us relaxed while the animated conversation continued.  Richard insisted I sit in a comfy chair next to his favorite chair.

As I reclined, finding the soothing comfort in the chair, I was reminded of my comfy chair in our old life, a chair that offered cocoon-like ease that allowed my mind to flow with thoughts, plans, and ideas as I sat there for 11 months, day after day, planning our worldwide travels. 

Alternate view of a section of Anina Beach.

I‘d stop only long enough to head to the health club for my workout, a quick trip to the grocery store, a fast meal preparation, or a visit with family or friends. 

Day after day, I sat in that beautiful Flexsteel chair, two of which we’d had made specifically for that room many years prior, each slightly different. Writing here, documenting, calculating, and planning every possible element of the first two years of our travels, now since the past was spent in that chair. 

Bathers continue to visit the sandy beaches on overcast days.

I know I’ve mentioned this in past posts but, for those who’ve come in partway in reading our over 900 posts to date, that chair held a special meaning for me, far more than any item we had in our home that we’d acquired together over the years. That chair.

In October 2012, when the estate sale professionals came to our house for four days, (we’d moved out to live with my friend Karen) in order to sell our belongings, my heart ached over the eventual sale of the chair.

Anini Beach shoreline on a cloudy day.

At the end of the first day of the sale, the estate sale company owner asked me to stop by to see how the first day had gone and to discuss price reductions for the next day. I arrived too early. The sale was still in progress.

As I walked around the house, I saw my chair in the dumpster. That chair. Apparently, someone had purchased it and when moving it out a leg broke. It was placed into the dumpster. Who’d buy a chair that couldn’t stand on four legs?

One of our favorite dinners consists of meatloaf stuffed with hard-boiled eggs, wrapped in bacon, green beans, coleslaw, and our homemade coconut biscuits, all low carb, grain-free,  gluten-free, starch-free, and sugar-free.

My heart ached as I stood at the dumpster looking at that chair and for the first time, asking myself, “What in the world are we doing, selling all of our worldly possessions, leaving everyone we know and love for some elusive dream?”

Not one to cry easily, I returned to my car parked out of sight and cried my heart out. “Let go!” I reminded myself, “Just let go!”

There’s another grocery store in Hanalei, Big Save. Unfortunately, their inventory is less robust than the Foodland in Princeville which is lacking in some products we use frequently, requiring us to drive 30 minutes to Kapaa where there’s a health food grocer and a larger Safeway.

After 20 years of pain and poor health, totally at bay due to the dietary changes for over a year at that point, we could finally travel, see the world, spread our wings, and stretch ourselves beyond the self-imposed limits of a lifetime. 

“Don’t cry over “stuff.” I told myself. I “pulled myself up by my bootstraps” as they say and went back to meet with the estate sale guy. I can’t say I never cried again before we left. After all, leaving everything and above all, everyone, wasn’t easy.

We continue to encounter one-lane bridges in Kauai. A posted sign states, “No more than seven cars may pass at one time.” Drivers are courteous in complying, counting the cars as they pass.

But, like the fulfillment of all dreams, sacrifice is a necessary element. Nothing worthwhile comes easy, a painful lesson we all learn in life as we mature into adults.

Agave plants can grow these snake-like protrusions.

So, yesterday, as I nuzzled into Elaine and Richard’s comfy chair, surrounded by friendship and love, a wave of divine happiness washed over my heart in such a way, it almost felt as if it rolled over in my chest. 

These types of signs prevent lifeguards from answering endless questions.

No, we don’t own a house or have an apartment somewhere. We don’t have a car tucked away in a friend’s garage. We don’t have storage space with “stuff” awaiting a time we’ll settle down. And, we don’t have a comfy chair we call our own.

A sign posted at Tunnels Beach.

What we do have travels well, isn’t heavy, and doesn’t require any special handling. Its passion, enthusiasm, optimism, and hope. Its curiosity, a sense of adventure, awe, and wonder. For this, we are grateful. With this, we are “home.”

                                                Photo from one year ago today, March 1, 2014: 

No photos were posted on this date one year ago. Finally, after an overnight and day of travel, we’d made it to Morocco and we busy getting situated. Tomorrow, we’ll share our first photos of our arrival in Marrakech. Please check back.