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Welcome to our Island Forum |
Welcome to our Island Forum which is dedicated to the exploration of topics related to time, slow-down, island-living and our programs.
We invite you to post issues or questions you are concerned about and to contribute your thoughts and experiences in responding to others’ concerns. We hope that you will find this forum to be a valuable resource for finding your very own answers to some of life’s most difficult and potentially most rewarding questions.
Your Island-Time staff
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| Posted by Dr Michael on 2543d7h ago |
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Dear Friends,
I was delighted to discover your organization, a voice of sanity in a world that seems to have gone on overdrive. It seems to me that the issue at hand is one of quality versus quantity. Unfortunately, our market-oriented world seems bent on encouraging quantity ... the idea that somehow 'more' is something we should all strive for. In the process, how has our 'quality' of life been affected? In my own experience, one seems to have an opposite effect on the other. The more I do, and the more I accumulate, the less I appreciate it. On the other hand, when I fill my mind and schedule with less demands, less things, less clutter, less 'desiring', the more I appreciate what I do have. Have others had the same experience? I'd love to know.
I'd like to relate one special story. My family and I live in Japan, in the city of Tokyo. Japan is an extremely civil and polite society, but the pace of life here is as fast as anywhere on the planet. We decided to visit Saipan, a beautiful island about a three-hour flight directly south. Because we have two children, we opted for a 'resort' experience that offered a daily smorgasbourd of events, from hang-gliding to water aerobics to volleyball to ... well, you name it. Great for the kids, but for me? ... it felt like Tokyo had hopped into my suitcase, refusing to leave. One day I was walking along the beach, the air filled with rock music and high energy, and made a decision to continue walking past the borders of the resort. Step after step, the madding crowd melted away behind me. The natural foliage of the island reappeared. I saw a tiny schoolyard where the local children played. I continued on, splashing my feet in the water, walking around turqoise starfish that sunned themselves there. Small dwellings appeared along the beach, and there wasn't a sound except the gentle wind. I turned, and saw a beautiful old woman, a native of the island, seated in a rocking chair on the grass not far from where the waves lapped the shore. We said nothing to each other, but our eyes met and we shared a smile. Shortly afterward I turned back.
In the months that followed, I remember nothing about the hectic pace of the days poolside at the resort. But I remember the starfish, and the grandmother. In that simple experience, I understood how a lifetime can happen in a moment, and how a day filled with activity can be empty indeed.
I'd appreciate knowing if others have had a similar experience.
Thanks, Island-Time, for understanding.
Cubby
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| Posted by cubby on 2408d16h ago |
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