Monhegan Island, Part 3 (2005)


I’ve always been sceptical of anyone who utters the following phrase: “I found myself.” Being a jaded and cynical punk rocker guy most of my childhood and growing into a jaded and cynical adult who listens to punk rock music, it has always aroused my suspicions of an individuals sense of self and reality when I’ve heard that phrase. How can you not know yourself? What is there to discover? Did these people seriously look in the mirror and think “hmmm…who is that looking back at me? damn sexxy smile, but who is it??”

At the same time, I’ve also been doubtful of the term revelation. And the usage I mean is the pseudo-biblical sense, when someone thinks something has been divinley placed before them, whether it be an event or an object or a person. It gets so overused to the point where it means nothing. A revelation should be something that alters your life/situation/etc on a profound and deep level. A level that you can’t easily describe and are hard pressed to put into words. A revelation, to me, is not a tv show, a magazine, some episode of Oprah or whatever. Revelation is an unconscious awakening. Part of you opens up that you didn’t realize was closed. To really pound home the cliche, revelation is a piece to a puzzle that we didn’t see missing

Walking out of H’s moms house, I couldn’t stop smiling. J had H’s mom’s dog on a leash. He was joining the three of us for the first part of our hike. We wandered down a path alongside H’s moms property to one of her rentals. I think they said it was called the Beck. I pulled out my camera and for the first time in a long time, started taking pictures. I have always loved photography and I seem to be good at it. The comments I get are usually along the lines of “geez, that could be a postcard”. Not sure if that is a good thing, but I’ll take it as a compliment.

After checking out the rental space, and getting some hints that maybe I should rent it for next summer, we wandered down a path heading towards the shoreline. I was informed that we were wandering into Lobster Cove. The fog had found new life and had rolled in over the water, obscuring the waves, but we could hear their relntless pounding on the rocks. Sitting on this beach was a shipwreck. In truth, I really wish I had paid better attention to the story, but it was aparently a tug that had wrecked here a century ago and everyone survived except the boat, which had left its metal hulk amongst the rocks of this shoreline. The body of the boat was on its side and we climbed up onto it and using it like a giant park bench, we enjoyed the noise of the waves and the glare of the sun as it poked in and out of the fog. I remember sitting there thinking that this was how life should be every day. Well, aside from the violent seasickness from the boat over. Everyday should start with the peacefullness of the ocean. This was true peacefullness, not like my favorite place down in Rye NH. In Rye, where I go to relax and sit and watch the waves, inevitably, someone drives by with their radio blaring, breaking my concentration and ruining whatever peace I had come in search of.

After several minutes just sitting there and enjoying nature, we started back for the house, where I got a chance to play with the dog. I love little dogs, especially little dogs with big personalities like this one. He was so adorable and all he wanted to do was run,play and wrestle. As a side note, I’m fiercely allergic to most dogs, so as much as I love them, they usually leave me a little puffy and out of breath. But for this little bugger, I was more than happy to risk an allergic reaction to wrestle with him over his toy.

On the path back and forth from the house, H would suddenly reach out for a bush and grab some fruit. I found this so amusing. I would never think to just grab fresh fruit from the plants growing wild on the island.

I started this tangent with criticism of finding oneself and revelation. I have to say, that after years of being in the business world, I had truly lost touch with something in myself and something in the world. Being surrounded by the beauty of this island, I realized that I had lost touch with nature. No, I’m not becoming a treehugging hippy looking for the next drum circle. But what I did realize was I was missing this silence. In the silence of nature, I could really hear my own thoughts, and I guess, despite my cynicism, I found a part of myself I had forgotten: a real childish joy that made me want to run up and down the trails like a little kid. Of course, being an out of shape adult, that would have been very impractical since I could have tripped and fallen and broken a hip, but the thought was there. And as you can see from reading this tangent, it was truly a moment of revelation: a profound moment that I’m unable to coherently put into words, but I think I can affectively express how it felt.

After inspecting another rental, we wandered towards town, stopping at the church where the wedding was held where H found some glasses in the lost and found box that made her look like a japanese tourist. We wandered down to Swim Beach which must be some kind of inside joke because the beach did not look too inviting for swimming. Then we went in search of lunch, first stopping for an end of season sale at one of the knick knack stores on the island. I wanted to get this shirt that proclaimed that maine was the home of gnats, but decided against it. If I was going to take a souvenir from the island, I would want it to be something positive. By this time, J, H and I were starting to get faint with hunger. Ok, I exagerrate, but it was damn close to fainting, so we went in search of lunch, settling for Pizza, strange medley of raw garlic,potatoes,olive oil,cheese and raw garlic! Our collective breath probably drove people away from us after that.

Ok, its late again, I promise to wrap this up tomorrow…


One response to “Monhegan Island, Part 3 (2005)

  1. Pingback: Another Interview, Another Challenge « Half Full or Half Empty

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