Living, Even When They Don’t Want Us To

Maui -Day 1

Somewhere over the Pacific, midway between the mainland and the islands, I was watching Harriet. A powerful film I’d somehow missed until now. I was completely absorbed—until something pulled me out of it. Not violently, but gently. Like stepping through warm mist. It was as if I’d passed through an invisible curtain mid-flight—a moment that caught my breath. I glanced at the flight map. We had just crossed the halfway point, floating between the continental United States and this scattered string of volcanic jewels.

That’s when I felt it: the shift. A subtle frequency change, like tuning into a different station on the radio of the world. There is something undeniably different here. Something that whispers, “You’re not in the same place anymore.”

There’s a passage in scripture—Jesus speaks of many rooms in his Father’s house. I’ve always interpreted that to mean dimensions, realms not necessarily seen but deeply felt. And this—this island life—feels like one of them. Being surrounded by water does something to your sense of time and self. You become a little less anchored, a little more aware of the spirit in things.

Here, the air is thick with the scent of wisteria. Birds converse louder and longer than people do. The heat presses against you—not unkindly, but insistently. And the coffee? It’s a kind of medicine.

Time loosens its grip in Maui. Maybe it’s the time zone, maybe it’s the distance, but this place seems to exist outside of the clock. A floating world. Not like New York with its electric charge or Europe with its ancient pulse—this is something else entirely. A place where silence has weight and stillness has sound.

And maybe the most surprising thing of all: I had a conversation that wasn’t about anything. No agenda, no transaction. Just laughter, presence, and the gentle passing of time with people I love. I didn’t realize how much I needed that until it happened.

There’s something defiant and sacred about living fully, even in a world that often doesn’t want us to. But here, I remembered how.