Something Missing
The Place: Tulum, Mexico
Paradise has engulfed me from the outside in.
I rub soft, white sand against my feet, feeling the grains gently scratch and massage the tender spots. The sun permeates my skin to infuse my body with warm, tropical heat. The breeze keeps the sweat beads at bay. My eyes periodically open to behold the sea of blue that meets the sea of sky. I laze in a comfy lounge chair, feeling my contentment in time and space reach an optimal Zen. I sip a perfectly blended, perfectly chilled cocktail that is as sweet and luscious as my immediate circumstances.
I have arrived at my destination without pretense or companion. I have once again proved to myself to the world that I’m capable of navigating its circumference, one foreign country at a time.
As the hours pass, my contentment morphs into restlessness. The elation I once felt in my isolation transmutes into an empty silence. Despite experiencing a relative state of euphoria in this moment, I can’t help but feel something nagging. It’s this feeling of incompleteness; of wanting more. My physical needs are well beyond satisfied but the needs of my spirit and soul are unattended to. My body is soaking in brilliant warmth, my heart is beating at a melodious rhythm, but the depths of my soul lay bare and stagnant, desperate for some profound feeling that penetrates deeper than the surface layer of my skin.
The answer finds me quite easily amidst the silence.
Companionship is what is missing.
I have no one to share this perfect moment with but myself.
The blissed out feeling of paradise has worn off and my shadow trails me at every turn.
This shadow is the embodiment of my deep desire to connect with others.
It is connection that I deeply crave, yet deeply fear.
All of my life experiences tied with the socio-cultural standards of being a North American, had conditioned me to strive for independence.
The aching, inescapable truth is that
