Of the many places I've traveled to in my long life, Kauai remains my favorite. I've had a decades-long love affair with this beautiful island. The moment the plane lands on this tiny speck of land in the vast Pacific Ocean, I feel at home.
A group of nenes waddle across the lawn. Behind them, the blue ocean shimmers in the morning sun. In the hazy distance, Mount Makana, also known as Bali Hai, stands guard over her dominion, making sure everything is as it should be.
The sun is baking my legs. Suddenly, raindrops come down - a sign that a rainbow is about to appear. A Shama thrush has landed on our lanai, and together we look out on the vast ocean. It has a slender build, and the breeze lifts its delicate feathers. He sits there for long periods, at the edge of the lanai, making sure that he can fly away at an instant.
I've lost count of how many times we've visited Kauai over the past twenty years, my husband and I. The island has not changed, except for the increased number of tourists.
What has changed is my body. The three-day long hikes on the Napali Trail are now filed away into a box in my head marked: ‘no longer active’. The five-hour-long jungle hike to the blue hole and the steep climb down to ‘Hide-Away Beach’ are also filed away as ‘closed for you until further notice’. Like Mount Waialeale, the now-dormant volcano that created Kauai, those activities are not only dormant, but also dead. And like dead volcanoes, they won’t erupt again.
I am no longer in charge. It is my body that calls the shots now, especially after I tore my meniscus. Until now, I took my knees for granted. They were there for my bidding.
There are strong laws against physical abuse, child abuse, domestic abuse, and sexual abuse, but there are no laws against self-abuse, because we consider our bodies as private property.
The reason we take so many liberties with our bodies is that we have a delusional conviction that we are immortal. And immortals don’t have to worry about their bodies conking out on them.
When our bodies finally no longer cooperate, we don’t have an ounce of pity and run to a physician and say: ‘Doctor, look at my knees, they don’t work anymore. Can you believe it? What’s wrong with them! I am sure you can fix them.’
