All Sense Hustle
Ever wonder why a comforter is called a comforter and not a bulky, pretty, warm, soft, extra-extra blanket? You got it. Because it is designed to make you feel good. Make you feel safe. Make you feel comfortable. And this is how I felt when I spent a miniscule moment in time in the lovely Okinawa. Each corner like its own kaleidoscope. Each person a parts of speech trinity embodying person, place AND thing (simultaneously.)
As soon as I got off the plane Okinawa said, “Baby girl, come let me comfort you.” The voice (Barry White meets Frederic Fracncois Chopin) was in Japanese but I knew that’s what it said. I am learning that each person’s definition of comfort is as multilayered as ones definition of, let’s say, love. One person may say that they love shoes. One person may tell a complete stranger they love them. One person may theorize that they love life and everything in it. Another person may clearly make the dividing line between love for self and love for ants. Everyone is different.
As a spoiled brat—i.e. a feisty feminist who is a wimp about not having her comforts…I started to fade away in a bit of funk. Okinawa Japanese voice also told me to open my eyes and get back to the business of being a student of life. (Yes, in Japanese. But I knew that’s what it said.)
Thank you Okinawa for ocean, shrines, temples and believe it or not, super thank you for some of the best Jamaican cuisine I’ve had in months. And for the stern rejuvenation of my spirit via words I could somehow understand.
Ps. Do check out the history/herstory of Okinawa.